


Stranger than Fiction

by crazynadine



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Boys Kissing, Comic-Con, Drinking, Fandoms & Fanfiction, Hospitals, M/M, Marvel References, Mickey is a fanboy, Mickey is adopted, Nurse Ian Gallagher, Office Party, Orignal Characters named for my fandom friends, Physical Therapist Mickey Milkovich, Recreational Drug Use, Smidge of Smut, Stucky shipping, Two gay dads, You've been warned, and therefore a bit OOC, dressing up, halloween party, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-13 18:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazynadine/pseuds/crazynadine
Summary: As the company Halloween party approaches, Mickey has a sinking feeling his friends are going to try set him up again. It always ends in catastrophe, and he's not looking forward to it at all.Ian's new at the hospital, but makes quick friends with an eccentric group of co-workers. But he just can't shake the feeling his new friends have an agenda he's not privy to.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 25
Kudos: 189
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	Stranger than Fiction

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be done by Halloween, but if you know me, you know I went through some shit on Halloween night. I haven't been able to bring myself to write until just now. So, I'm sorry it's late. I know this isn't my usual kind of story. But I hope it speaks to someone out there. I had fun writing it, and I suppose that's what matters most.
> 
> You don't need excessive Marvel knowledge to understand this fic, but there are some basics in there you may not understand if you've never seen a Marvel movie.

October 2017

"C'mon, Milky, it's gonna be so great. For me?" 

Mickey groaned. He hated it when Maria made that face. With the big eyes and the pouty lips. She batted her eyelashes at him, hands folded under her chin like an obedient child. Mickey is powerless against that look. And Maria knows it. 

Mickey had really wanted to see Bourne Identity. It's on Netflix, and anything with espionage and violence is good in Mickey's book. 

But Maria is dead set on watching this stupid ass super hero movie. Mickey's just not into that kinda shit. He doesn't get the appeal at all. 

"What about a horror movie?" Mickey offers, hopeful. It's close to Halloween, so Netflix is full of gory fare at the moment. Leatherface or Freddy would be way better than whatever bullshit has his friend so excited. 

"Mick." Maria whines. Straight up whines, like a toddler. "We are going to the Haunted Corn Maze on Friday. That is plenty scary. I wanna watch my movie! C'mon, you're gonna love it, I know you are." she curled up next to him on the couch, practically crawling into his lap. She forced the full effect of her 'wounded puppy look' right on him. He could feel himself giving in even as he glared daggers at her. 

"Damn it, Mari." Mickey sighs, rolling his eyes. "You never fight fair. Fine, you pick." Maria jumped off the couch, fist pumping as she did a little happy dance in the middle of her living room. She grabbed the remote off the coffee table and cued up the movie she picked. 

Mickey groans as the intro music starts. "You better get me a damn beer." he grouses. "I don't think I can watch this shit sober. I hate this crap." 

Maria chuckled, walking over to the fridge and grabbing two beers. "You've never seen a single Marvel movie, asshole." she handed him a beer before flopping down next to him on her overstuffed couch. 

"It's all the same." Mickey replied. "I've seen all the Batman movies. Superman too." 

Maria scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You sound like the biggest dumbass. They're not even close to the same thing. And now you're going to get schooled. Shut up and watch." 

Mickey squinted at his friend, but didn't say anything. He settled in to watch The Avengers with her. It was her turn to pick after all. 

Maria's one of Mickey's best friends, but he's never understood her fascination with Marvel. She's a strange girl, but Mickey adores her. They met at work, in the Physical Therapy Department at Chicago Memorial hospital. Maria is a receptionist, and Mickey is a PT. 

When Mickey first laid eyes on her, in her knitted cardigan, strange dress with the poofy skirt and cartoon butterflies on it, Mickey thought he was going to hate her. He had this image in his head of girls who dressed that way. Stuck up, dumb, vapid. You name it. He had a set of preconceived notions about woman who worked in offices too. 

He was a judgmental ass. Which is kinda ironic considering where he came from, and who he is now. 

He was dead wrong about Maria anyway. She was the baddest bitch he's ever met, except his sister maybe. She can head bang with the best of them, she can drink Mickey under the table, and she can hold her own in a street fight. She swears like a sailor, and never hesitates to put Mickey in his place when he's being an idiot. 

Of course, they became best friends. 

Which is why he can't say no to her when she decides they are going to spend their Friday night watching stupid superhero movies, instead of getting their Jason Bourne on like Mickey would prefer. 

Whatever, one stupid movie isn't going to kill him. And free booze makes anything more tolerable. 

"Who's that?" Mickey asks, his eyes soaking in the massive hunk of hot guy on the screen. 

"That's Captain America." Maria smirked. She glanced over at her friend, chuckling softly. "Hot, right?" 

"Eh, he's okay." Mickey shrugged. He's not going to admit it to his friend, but he's certainly more interested in the movie now. That guy is sexy as hell. Damn. 

He sits with Maria, watching the movie and putting away beers like it's his job. As the movie progresses, Mickey gets more and more into it. He doesn't think much of it, just enjoys his night off with his best friend.

Little did he know, his life was never going to be the same. 

***

September 2018

"So Ian, how do you like it, honestly? You're almost past your ninety day probation period." 

Ian glances up at his new coworker, giving her a small smile. He may have been working at Chicago Memorial for almost three months, but he still can't say he's quite found his groove yet. 

Not that he's going to tell anyone that. 

Ian's been a pediatric nurse for a couple years now, but he's only worked at small hospitals in the suburbs. He stared at Chicago Memorial at the beginning of June, and he's still trying to find his footing. 

Because Chicago Memorial is a whole other animal. It's huge, chaotic and noisy. Ian's only been on the clock for four hours, and he's already beat. 

He's going to sleep like the dead tonight. 

"It's good." he says instead. He gives Molly a little smile, rifling through some paperwork for a patient they're discharging that afternoon. 

Molly is a nice lady. She's actually just Ian's kind of person. Smart, opinionated, and loud. She's always got something clever to say, and Ian spends most of their shared shifts laughing. She's damn good at her job, and does not suffer fools. Be it a mouthy patient or a stubborn asshole doctor. She will put anyone in their place, and keep a smile on her face while doing it. 

She's also the senior nurse in the pediatric unit, so that kind of makes her Ian's boss. Not that she acts like it. She's more of a friend than his supervisor. 

"Good?" she laughs. "That's all you've got to say?" 

Ian shrugs, unsure how much he wants to say. But this is Molly, and she'll get it out of him sooner or later. Better to just say it now. 

"It's overwhelming." he says, walking around the counter so he can sit opposite Molly in one of the office chairs. "My last hospital was St. Michael's." 

Molly laughed loudly, her whole body shaking with it. "That ass backward hole in the wall? They don't even have their own MRI. Gotta use that mobile one that carts ass all over the county. Kiddo, you haven't worked in a real hospital until you get more than one gunshot wound every two weeks." 

Ian laughed, nodding along. He knows she's right. He thought he was experienced when he started working here, but even the Pediatric Unit is like a war zone more often than not. Screaming, blood, violent arguments. Ian's never seen anything like it. 

It's a lot, and sometimes Ian worries that he's not good enough for Chicago Memorial. 

"You're fitting in just fine, hon." Molly says, like she can read his mind. "You're a great nurse. The kids and their parents love you." 

Ian nodded again, smiling. He didn't know he needed to hear that until she said it. Ian can always count on Molly to pull him back from the edge of a doubt spiral. 

"So, you're working 7-3 this whole week, right?" Molly asks, typing furiously on her keyboard. Ian knows she's got to get those Medicaid claims out before two. 

"Yep." Ian replied, grabbing some files he needed for his next patient. Questionable fracture. He better grab the DCFS forms too, just in case. 

These cases make him so sad, but he needs to keep it professional. Stay on top of his emotions. 

"You wanna have lunch with me and some other auxiliary employees today?" Molly asks, eyes darting between Ian's face and her computer screen. "No doctors, promise. Nobody worth a damn in this hospital eats with the flippin' doctors." 

Ian laughed, shaking his head. It never ceases to amuse him, this little rift between the doctors and the other employees. It's the same at every hospital. The doctors are all assholes with superiority complexes, and the rest of the hospital staff all stand united against them. 

It's like West Side Story, but with less singing and more CPR. It's not that Ian hates the doctors, he doesn't. Some of them are nice enough. 

But they do act like their nurses are just there to cleave to their every order and clean up after them. 

It gets old fast. 

It's really nice of Molly to invite Ian to join her and her friends for lunch. But Ian's still unsure. 

He's been at this hospital for a while now, but hasn't seemed to really click with anyone. Molly is the only person who's shown an interest in getting to know him. The other nurses on the Pedi Unit are kind of stuck up, and pretty cliquey. With their inside jokes and game nights Ian never gets invited to. It feels a little like high school, when he was never quite rich enough or cool enough for the popular kids, and never drunk enough or wild enough for the kids from his own neighborhood. It only got worse when he came out as gay. It's not like Ian was friendless, but he can for sure remember getting rejected by people for things he couldn't control. 

It's not a good feeling, and he'd hoped he'd left it in the past. 

But people can be cruel, no matter their age. 

So Ian's been sticking to himself for the most part, after a particularly rude rebuff from Tammy, an ICU nurse that scoffed in Ian's face when he asked if he could sit with her on their coffee break. 

Molly is the exception. She's the best person he knows at this hospital. 

But that doesn't mean Ian's going to get along with her friends. And he's worried that if he makes a poor showing at this lunch, he'll make a new set of enemies. It makes working unbearable when all your coworkers are short and snippy with you. Talking behind your back in hushed whispers. Clamping their mouths shut dramatically when you walk by. 

Ian wasn't always like this. He used to be confident and gregarious. Even in the hellscape of high school, Ian held his own. His circle of friends may have been small, but it was strong. He had no problem making people laugh, captivating them, letting them confide in him. He was well liked and respected by the people in his life. 

That was until he was diagnosed with Bipolar I Disorder, about two months after his seventeenth birthday. 

Ian had been blindsided, even though it was always a possibility. His deadbeat absentee mother, Monica, has been an unmediated bipolar addict all Ian's life. So the odds were always good one of her six children would lose that gamble. 

Ian just never thought it would be him. 

He'd been resistant at first, running away from home and going on the bender to end all benders. He spent months on the streets, couch surfing and dancing at seedy clubs to support himself as he spiraled out of control. 

It all came crashing down around him about six months later. Ian hit rock bottom and a depressive low at the same exact moment. On his knees behind the Last Resort Men's Club, with some random john's dick in his mouth, Ian had just....shattered. He'd jumped up, decked the guy while his dick was still out, and collapsed on the filthy concrete, just bawling. 

He's still not sure how he ended up at the hospital. All he knows is that he woke up in four point restraints, Fiona and Lip hovering over his bed, looking stricken and terrified. 

Ian has never felt like more of a failure than he did in that moment. 

It was the wake up call he needed. He checked himself into the psych ward and spent three weeks there, getting a handle on his mental health and finding a cocktail of drugs that would help control his symptoms. 

That was eight years ago. 

It hasn't been easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is. Ian finished high school, with the help of a free tutoring program for poor kids. He went to therapy, stayed on top of his meds, got into that 'self-care' bullshit his shrink was always going on about. Meditation, regular exercise, eating right, sleeping enough. He stopped doing all drugs but weed, only drank on rare occasions. It was a big adjustment, but he did it. 

He did it all. With the same rigid conviction he used to bring to his ROTC training. 

And slowly, he got better. He's not cured, of course. He still has slips. Low days where he begs off work and stays in bed staring at the walls of his apartment. Manic days where he still begs off work and has to lock himself in his bedroom with his adult coloring books and emo cd's so he doesn't do something stupid like take a road trip to Vegas. Or bust down his stupid neighbor's door and cave his face in. Manic or not, fuck that asshole. 

He has a support system that he employs on days like that, and thus far it's kept him out of serious trouble. 

It also made it possible for him to get his high school diploma, and go onto Chicago Central Community College, gets his nursing degree. 

The hardest part of all that was getting his RN with a documented mental illness. God, did he jump through hoops for that. Psych evaluations, interviews, and periodic checks with the state nursing board. It was hell, but totally worth it. 

Because here he is, living his dream. Helping people. Helping kids. Kids like he used to be. Hurt and scared, more often than not in the system. Ian's work gives him purpose. It gives him peace. 

And that is worth more than most anything in Ian's book. 

The one thing he hasn't been able to gain back after his recovery has been his confidence. Since he's been managing his disorder, he's calmer, more focused, and certainly happier. 

But he is no longer the confident, flirty, easygoing guy he once was. 

No matter what he does, he remains this shy, introverted, anxiety-riddled bundle of nerves. It makes socializing very hard when you can't stop over analyzing everything you say, can't stop trying to decipher the looks on peoples faces. Can't stop wondering if you're coming off too crazy. 

It's exhausting. 

"....and I told 'em you would. So you can't back out, or I'm gonna be the asshole." 

Shit. Has Molly been talking this whole time? Ian zones out at the most inopportune moments. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Ian asks, grabbing his patient's charts and tucking them under his arm. He really needs to get his rounds done. 

Molly sighed, glaring at Ian. 

She hates repeating herself. 

"I said I told my friends you'd be joining us for the hospital's Halloween party this year. It's on the 28th. You're not working, I already checked. So don't even try to weasel your way outta this." 

"Molls..." Ian says, voice gentle. He needs to tread very carefully. 

"Nope." she cuts him off. She stands from her seat, jabbing a finger in Ian's shocked face. "You isolate yourself. I know why..." - she does know why. Molly is the only person in the hospital that knows Ian's bipolar.  


He's not hiding these facts about himself, it's just that he doesn't talk to all that many people, so it hasn't come up. 

"...but you're never going to make any more friends around here if you don't at least put yourself out there." she smiled kindly at him before her lips curled into a devious smirk. Leaning in, she stage whispered "Never mind a boyfriend, Ian." 

Ian opens his mouth to protest. He's not that much of a partier. He can drink, just not to excess. His meds don't mix too well, and he gets drunker faster than most guys his age. And the idea of hanging out with a bunch of people he works with doesn't sound like the best idea. Especially with alcohol involved. 

And he doesn't even want to think about a boyfriend. He's just not ready for that. He's been working on himself for so long, getting healthy, learning to be happy on his own. Sure, he has random Grindr hookups, but it's been months since he dated anyone seriously. Not to mention the fact that a work function is the absolute last place Ian wants to find a lover, never mind the quick fuck he's honestly more interested in. 

"Don't." Molly cuts him off again. Her face softens and she reaches up to lay a hand over Ian's where it's resting on the nurse's station desk. "Don't make excuses. I like you, Ian. You're a great guy. I just want to introduce you to some of my friends form around the hospital. You already agreed to lunch. If that goes well, will you at least consider the party? For me?" 

Ian groans, knowing he's already lost. Molly has been so good to him. So nice, showing him around his new workplace, bailing him out of some embarrassing snafus, keeping him company as he acclimates to this new, intimidating place. 

How can he deny her?

"Fine." Ian says, finally stepping away from the nurse's station. Molly grins, her eyes dancing. Ian holds up a single finger as he ambles down the hallway. "I'm agreeing to LUNCH. We still have to discuss this party. And please, lay off the boyfriend talk." 

Molly fist pumps the air, and it's clear to Ian that she thinks she's won. 

Hell, she probably has. 

Ian shakes his head, turning his back on his friend and heading toward room 412. 

What the hell did Ian just agree to? 

***

The cafeteria is always a hub of activity, and the girls who run the kitchen are always going out of their way to make it look homey and inviting, instead of sterile and intimidating. Shannon and Paula are incredible women, and make the most delicious food with little money and sub-par ingredients. Patients are always raving that Chicago Memorial has the best hospital food in the tri-county area. 

The large space is lit with natural light, thanks to the full glass panels that make up the southern wall. The kitchen staff has the entire space decked out in fall fare. Big construction paper leaves in bright fall colors decorated the walls, courtesy of the kids up on the Pedi floor. Pumpkins and gourds covered every flat surface, along with little porcelain figurines from Tamara's personal collection. Cute little fall scenes, like kittens playing in piles of leaves, and a scarecrow in a barren corn field. 

Mickey can barely hear himself think. You'd think he was in the middle of a bumping nightclub, and not at his usual table in the hospital's cafeteria. 

His friends are less like a group of young professionals, and more like a pack of wild hyenas. Yipping and hollering over each other. Cackling and ragging on each other like a bunch of kids. 

He can see Cynthia, the hospital's VP of Operations giving them all the stink eye. He smiles, mouth full of Nutter Butters, waving wildly. Cynthia scowls at him, turning back to her laptop with a roll of her eyes. 

Sometimes, working at this hospital feels like being back in high school. 

"Milkovich, are you listening to me?" Tyler whines, tossing a french fry at Mickey's head. 

"Do that again and you're gonna lose a finger." Mickey replied lowly, snapping his teeth menacingly.

Tyler just laughs at him, throwing another fry. This one hits Mickey right under his left eye. Mickey scowls at him, batting Tyler upside the head. "Fuck off." 

Tyler just grins, waggling his eyebrows as he stuffs another fry in his mouth.

Tyler is a good guy, but he's a bit much. 

Mickey may be gay. He may be out to all his friends as well as his family. He may not have a single ounce of gay self-hatred left in his tiny Ukrainian body. He may be an Out-and-Proud Gay Man, as they say.

But he's no Tyler Andrews. 

The snarky phlebotomist is like a rainbow flag and a My Little Pony had a baby. He's effeminate, delicate and fucking fabulous. He's not a stereotype, because he sets a whole new curve. Mickey's sometimes convinced the kid would bleed glitter if Mickey cut him open.

"Mikhailio!" Tyler growls slapping the table in front of Mickey's face. 

Tyler hates being ignored. 

"Yes?" Mickey sighs, giving his friend his full attention. Maria chuckles next to him, taking an annoyingly noisy pull from her straw, slurping Mountain Dew like a savage. Mickey shoots her a glare before focusing on Tyler again. 

"I asked you if you've decided what you're gonna be for the Halloween party?" 

Mickey groaned, waving Tyler off. "Told you, I'm not going to that shit."

"Oh yes you are." Maria insisted, putting down her soda and crossing her arms on the table top. She looked downright imposing, even in her baby blue apron dress and striped cardigan. "Mickey, we talked about this. I already have your costume picked out. We match, so if you back out and leave me hanging, I'm going to have to gut you. And I'll never get the blood out from under my fingernails. You don't want that, do you?" she said it all with a smile, her voice saccharine sweet. 

Mickey was still moderately terrified. 

"Ugh, fine. We'll talk about it later." he ground out, moving to stand. "I have to get back upstairs, I have physiotherapy for a coma patient up in ICU." He stood from the table, as did Maria. They waved to Tyler as they made their way back toward the exit of the cafeteria.

"Let me walk you out, gotta ask you something." Maria hops up, abandoning her lunch so she can trail behind Mickey. 

"You can run, but you can't hide, Mickey." Tyler sing-songed as Mickey walked away. "You're outnumbered, stud!" 

Mickey groaned, rolling his eyes. His friends were amazing, but god, did they always have to steamroll over him like that? 

Maria's talking, but Mickey can't hear a word of it, too lost in his head over this party bullshit. 

He's just not a company party kind of guy. He likes his work friends. Let's be honest, they're his real friends, his only friends. But just because he likes a select few people here at Chicago Memorial, that doesn't mean he wants to socialize with the four hundred other assholes that work there. Not to mention the higher ups. 

How is it fun to spend the night with a bunch of bureaucrats, talking shop and drinking champagne? 

Not to mention, Maria and his other friends had a shitty habit of setting him up, and these company shin digs were no exception. He got lucky at the Valentine's Mixer, since he had a boyfriend (god, he never wants to think about that asshole ever again), but he's been single for a while now, and that is pretty much a guarantee that Mari has something up her pastel colored sleeve. Mickey's dreading it. 

Maria has this unhealthy obsession with Mickey's love life. She thinks it's her mission in life to find his soulmate for him. She was adamantly against Mickey's last boyfriend. Hated him from the jump. She'd been right of course, and refuses to let Mickey forget it. Honestly, he's still a little twisted up about it, even though Maria and all his friends insist it's time to move on. 

Mickey's not all that eager, after being put through the ringer so soundly. 

But none of that shit matters, because Mickey can't say no to his friends. Never could. 

When did he become such a pushover? God, if his old man could see him now. 

Mickey is so lost in his musings, he almost misses the living sex god entering the cafeteria. 

Almost. 

Because he'd have to be blind and stupid to miss that tall glass of ginger. 

The guy is unfairly hot. Tall and lean, looking almost angelic in his all white scrubs. Pale as hell with fire red hair. 

Jesus, that hair...

And Mickey just discovered a kink he never knew he had. 

Holy fucking hell. 

God damn it. 

Mickey doesn't date coworkers. He has to remind himself of that fact repeatedly as he forces himself to keep walking toward his appointment, and away from the enticing stranger. 

***

Ian and Molly entered the cafeteria about ten minutes after his lunch break started. The place was teeming with people. Other employees, patients and their loved ones crowded the space. It was noisy and chaotic, the lines for the hot food almost ten feet long, snaking around the open space. 

Ian's glad, in moments like these, that he brings his lunch. 

Just as Ian and Molly are closing in on Molly's regular table, they pass a man making his way out of the cafeteria, and Ian gets a little weak in the knees at the mischievous grin on the stranger's face. Ian's seen him around, but never spoken to him. It's not that he's intimidated...

It's just that he's intimidated. 

The guy is gorgeous. Just, utterly beautiful. He's got hair so black, it looks purple in the right light, and eyes so icy blue Ian shivers whenever he locks eyes with the guy. He's short, but well muscled, Ian can tell even under his scrubs. His arms are defined, his biceps bulging in the short sleeves of his scrub top. Ian eyes him as inconspicuously as he can as he wanders by. The guy is chatting animatedly with Maria, one of the receptionists up on the PT unit. Ian knows her, but not well. She's friendly with Tyler and Molly, but Ian's never spent any real time around her. She's funny, and nice. And loud. 

She kind of reminds Ian of Fiona. 

Ian watches the mystery guy say goodbye to Maria and leave the cafeteria with a little wave. Ian pivots a bit, turning around so he can look just a little longer. 

Damn, that guy's ass is stacked. Ian wonders if he was born with that bubble butt or if he has to work for it in the gym. He can't seem to tear his eyes away...

That's why he almost falls on his ass when he bowls into a maintenance worker built like a brick shit house, almost spilling cafeteria food all over Ian's pristine white scrubs. 

"Man, watch where you're going." the guy huffs, darting around Ian and further into the cafeteria. 

"Sorry." Ian mumbles, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed his clumsiness. 

And there's Molly. Just standing there, arms crossed over her chest, smirking at Ian like she can read his damn mind. 

"You okay there?" Molly smiles, arching a single brow. 

"Shut up." Ian mumbles, feeling like an idiot. 

"See something you like?" Molly goads evilly. She motions to the cafeteria exit, where the sexy stranger had just disappeared through the double doors. 

Ian really hates her sometimes. 

"I said shut it." 

Molly just laughs maniacally, leading Ian over to where their friends are sitting. 

Maria comes barreling back to the table, skidding to a halt right before crashing into the table. With a little giggle, she drops gracefully into her seat like she never almost face planted at all.

Ian has a fleeting thought to ask Maria about her friend, but he squashes it as soon as it comes up. He's got enough shit to worry about, he's got no time for a pointless workplace crush. 

Ian plops down in a seat and lays his lunch bag on the table. He starts pulling food out of the bag, but doesn't get very far before a flying french fry lands on the table in front of him. He looks up to see Tyler and Maria staring at him, twin looks of concentration on their faces. 

Ian's familiar with Maria, in passing. But Tyler, he doesn't know that well at all. Ian doesn't really participate in any of the out-of-work activities the group sets up after hours, so most of these people are just work acquaintances. 

"Hey Ian." Tyler smirks. Ian waves, eyebrows raised. 

"Hi." Ian replied warily, pulling his roast beef sandwich out of his bag. He took a big bite, watching Tyler watching him. He had this shit eating grin on his face, and it made Ian very nervous. "What?" 

"Nothing." Tyler shrugged, running one of his curly fries through a puddle of ranch dressing. "Molly told us you're coming to the Halloween party." 

Ian scowled, glaring at Molly, who just smiled innocently. 

"I never said you agreed, I said you were thinking about it." she insists unconvincingly. 

Ian rolled his eyes, glowering at his friend. She's crafty, he'll give her that. 

"Ian, you've gotta come." Maria interjected. "It's at the fucking Hyatt. Open bar, appetizers all night, desert bar. They do pumpkin carving and bobbing for apples. Costume contest, karaoke. It's a blast." 

"I don't know guys, I'm not much of a partier." 

"Ian, love." Molly said, poking at her salad. "Just say yes. If you think I'm insistent, Maria is a pitt bull. She will not take no for an answer. And with Tyler backing her up, you are as good as done." 

"I don't even have a costume." Ian replied, scrambling for any excuse that could get him out of this.

"No worries." Maria smirked. "I've got you covered. I have just the thing for you." 

"What?" Ian balked, a chip poised in front of his mouth. 

"I have an idea for a costume for you. But you gotta come by my house this weekend." 

Ian gaped at Maria. 

What now? 

Maria was a really nice girl. Ian liked her a lot. Maybe even as much as he liked Molly. But they'd never hung out together outside of work. He's confused as to why she would suddenly offer up her home, her company, to a man she barely knows. Not to mention assist him with a costume for this godforsaken party. "What? Why?" he can't help but ask. 

Maria rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "It's called being friendly. I'm sure you understand the concept." 

Ian chuckled, feeling a tiny fraction of his anxiety draining out of him. "I do." 

Maria smiled back at him. "Good. It's settled then. Gimme your number, I'll text you." she pulled her phone out of the pocket of her slouchy sweater and slid it across the table to Ian so he could type his digits in. He did just that, passing the phone back with a shy smile. 

"Thanks." Ian said quietly. "That sounds fun." 

"Awesome." Maria replied, pocketing her phone with a smile of her own. "Wait 'til you see my costume collection. You're gonna die." 

Costume collection? 

Ian opened his mouth to ask her about that when a loud buzzing sounded over the hospital's intercom system. 

"Ian Gallagher, please report to Pediatrics immediately. Ian Gallagher to Pediatrics." 

Ian sighed, quickly packing up the remnants of his lunch and standing from the table. "Gotta go." 

Everyone made quick goodbyes, Ian promising to eat lunch with them again the following day when all three pressed him. 

He walked away from the table with an excited buzzing just under his skin. 

Looks like he's not so shitty at making friends after all. 

Once Ian was out of earshot Molly turned to Tyler and Maria with a wicked grin on her lips. "So that's him. What do you think?" 

"I don't know." Tyler replied, eyes still fixed on where Ian had disappeared into the crowd. "You really think they'll hit it off?" 

"I do." Molly replied, tossing a piece of honeydew melon into her mouth. "They are cut from the same cloth." 

"Molly, darling, you do understand that just because two men are gay, it doesn't mean they are going to end up together. They may just not click." 

Molly just stared at Tyler for a moment, before throwing her head back and laughing at the ceiling. "Kiddo. Just cuz that's the line Ian gave you when you hit on him, doesn't mean this shit won't work out." 

Tyler scowled at Molly, viciously whipping a french fly at his cackling friend. She batted it away with her manicure fingers and flipped Tyler off with the same hand. "Baby, he's just not into you. Let them man live." 

"Yeah." Maria agreed, giving Tyler a placating smile. "I don't know if this is gonna work out, but I think it's worth a shot. If the way Ian was staring Mickey down just now was anything to go by, that boy is at least interested in Mickey's ass."

Tyler scoffed, opening his mouth for another snarky retort, but Molly cut him off. 

"It's going to work out." Molly insisted, turning to Maria. "Just you wait. Get Ian to your house, get to know him. You'll see I'm right. I can feel it." 

Tyler rolled his eyes, sipping from his iced coffee. "Since when are we match makers?" he sighed. "And I want to my dissent to go on the record when all this blows up in our faces. I am not too keen on getting my ass kicked by either of them." 

Maria giggled, rolling her eyes. "Tyler, you are so suburban. Just cuz they're south side doesn't mean they're gonna kick your ass." 

Tyler smiled sweetly, sipping his coffee. "I've seen both those dudes, and while all those muscles are incredibly sexy, I don't wanna be on the wrong side of either set of fists." 

Molly just chuckled, giving Maria a cocky smirk. "The boy is doubting us, Mari." 

"He clearly doesn't know us, then. Does he?" 

Tyler just rolled his eyes heavenward, begging the Gay Gods for patience. These women and their schemes were going to be the death of him. 

***

October 1, 2018

"What do you mean, you have to cancel?" Mickey groaned, running his fingers through his hair. It was unlike Mari to cancel on him last minute like this. They had a standing take out/movie night on Fridays, barring one of them having a date. 

Since Mickey just got out of a bad break up, and Maria had sworn off men until after the new year after a series of shitty Tindr dates put her through the ringer, they had been leaning on each other a lot in the past few months. 

So, it was odd for her to call so close to their meet up time and beg off. 

"But we were gonna work on our costumes." he said, reaching into the pocket of his pants and pulling out his cigarettes. He's cut way down since he started working at a PT, but he hasn't been able to kick the habit completely. He lit one quickly, sucking it down while he pondered his friend's odd behavior. 

"I know, and I'm sorry about that, but we've got time for the costumes. All we really need for you is the arm and the mask, anyway." 

Mickey hummed, cocking an eyebrow Maria couldn't see. "Okay.... so you've got a dude coming over." 

Maria's responding cackling laugh was so unexpected, Mickey drew the phone away from his ear to stare at it incredulously. 

What the hell was up with her? 

He put the phone back against his ear, muttering a questioning "Mari?" 

"Sorry, sorry." she said, still chuckling a little. "But no, it's nothing like that. I just have something to do tonight." 

"Okay then." Mickey replied, still skeptical. "Well, are we still on for breakfast tomorrow?" 

"Yes, of course. Nine a.m. at the Early Bird, just like always." 

"Alright, I guess I'll see you then?" Mickey replied, still profoundly confused. 

"Sure thing, Milky, have a good night." 

"Yeah, you too. Bye." 

Mickey hung up the phone, tossing it on his nightstand. He just sat there for a minute, considering. 

Maybe Maria's date was someone Mickey hated? Maybe she wasn't sure about the guy and wanted to wait and see how it went? Maybe the guy was married? 

Shit, he needs to cut it out. He trusts his friend, and even if he's never been stood up for one of their Friday night hang outs, it doesn't mean the world is ending. 

Mickey nods to himself, grabbing his phone again. He'll call his Dads, see if they're making dinner tonight. 

He was always down for one of his pop's home cooked meals. 

***

Maria hung up her phone, the tiniest bit of guilt pooling in her stomach. She pushed it away, forcing a smile back onto her face. 

This was a good idea. She could feel it in her bones. The moment Molly brought it up, Maria knew it was a golden opportunity. Sure, Ian seems a little shy, maybe a bit tentative around new people. He probably has his own issues, just like everyone does. And that's not even considering Mickey, how he's barely dated since his last shitty boyfriend put him through hell. Maria could very well be making a huge mistake. 

But if not, the payoff could be epic. Smiles and love all around, with a side of sexual satisfaction. Win-win, really. 

Now, if only she could pull it off without pissing off her bestie and scaring Ian away for good. 

She shook off the negative thoughts, quickly tidying up her apartment in anticipation of Ian's arrival. 

Her apartment was small and quirky, but it was hers. It was the first time in her life that Maria had lived on her own, no parents, no boyfriend. No one telling her what she should do or how she should live. 

It was a liberating experience, and she was in no hurry to give it up. 

She wandered around the small three room space, grabbing up dirty knee socks and depositing empty cups in the sink. 

She was arranging her cosplay costumes for Ian's inspection when the doorbell buzzed. She quickly buzzed Ian in the main door in the lobby and moved back to her costumes, arranging them just so. 

Of course, the selection of costumes was another ruse. She already knew how she would be dressing Ian for the hospital's Halloween party...

A quiet knock on her front door alerted her to Ian's arrival. She scampered over, flinging the door open to reveal a shy looking Irishman on the other side. 

"Ian Gallagher." she smiled, waving him in. "Welcome to the jungle." 

Ian chuckled, smiling at Maria as he followed her into the apartment. 

Maria watched him take in the space, a small smile forming on her lips at his gobsmacked expression. 

"You're into comics?" Ian asks, turning toward her. She offered her hand for his coat and he passed it over. 

She grinned at Ian as he stumbled through the hallway, glancing at all the posters and comic book covers she had framed on her walls. 

All Marvel of course. Captain America heavy, but including all the Avengers and some lesser known heroes. 

Maria was Stan Lee's bitch, and she didn't care who knew it. 

"I am." she replied, hanging Ian's coat up. "Go ahead and sit in the living room. You want a beer or anything?" 

"Sure, that would be great. Thanks." 

Maria grabbed two beers from her fridge and made her way back to the living room. She just stood in front of her open fridge for a moment, glancing toward the living room to give Ian a considering look. 

Ian was a good guy. From what Molly had told her, he was just a south side kid trying to make a better life for himself. Molly hadn't gone into real detail, but Maria's had enough friends from that side of town to understand without having to be told. 

When Molly let it slip that Ian was gay, Mickey was the first thing that came to Maria's mind. 

Not that Molly had snitched, per say. It was just that when Molly got talking, it was hard for her to stop. So the conversation about her new nurse friend had quickly devolved into 'Ian's the cutest little gay boy I've ever seen and we need to fix him up.'

Maria was more than happy to help. 

The thing is, Mickey is her best friend in the world. He's the nicest, sweetest, most amazing person she's ever met. 

But he doesn't know that. 

Maria has heard all the stories. From before. Before Mark and Embry adopted Mickey and his sister. Before Mickey was saved from a life of abuse and torture. Before Mickey knew he was worth a damn. 

She's heard it all. And she knows how it still affects Mickey. She sees it in the men he chooses to date. Like Derek. The last asshole in a parade of assholes that pissed her off to no end. Derek was rude, condescending, and picked on every little thing Mickey did. 

He hated the way Mickey chewed, for fuck's sake. 

Maria had ended up bitch slapping the motherfucker and banning him from her apartment for all eternity. 

Mickey and Derek had broken up not long after that. 

With the memory of that crime-scene of a movie night in the forefront of her mind, Maria had started seriously considering Molly's 'Ian' offer. 

What harm could there be in *maybe* seeing if the two men could be happy together? Maria already knew Mickey was the total package, and if Molly was vouching for Ian, there could be no real harm in trying. 

Right? 

Maria pushed down her doubts, plastering another sweet smile on her face as she grabbed a couple beers from her fridge and planted herself next to Ian on the couch. 

It's not like she has a series of tests for Ian to pass or anything. 

She just wants to chill with him, get a feel for what kind of guy he is. Maybe see if he's good enough for her best friend.

Totally normal, right? 

"So, Ian." she says, curling her feet under her thighs. She's wearing her favorite leggings. Deep navy with Captain America's shield blazoned across them. "I thought we could watch a movie first, then work on your costume for the party?" she tacks on the question at then end, though she has no intention of giving him a choice. 

"Sure." Ian agrees easily, sipping his beer. He eyes the wrack of costumes along the far wall of the living room, and the giant Singer sewing machine taking up the entire back corner of the space, but doesn't comment on it. "Whatever you want." 

Maria smiles at him. Good answer. 

"Alright then. We'll start with Captain America: The First Avenger." 

***

"Mikhailio. What a pleasant surprise." Mark, his dad, crows from his seat at the breakfast bar. "We didn't expect you tonight. Everything okay?" 

Mickey smiled at his dad, nodding. He easily fell into his dad's arms, embracing him tightly. (something he'd never have done when he was a kid. He can't recall one time Terry touched him when it wasn't to hurt him.) "Hey dad. Yeah, everything's fine. Just wanted to see you guys." 

"Is that our boy?" Embry, his pop's voice trailed from deeper in the house. Mickey dropped down next to Mark at the breakfast bar, grabbing a plumb from the fruit bowl. He bit into it with a pleased groan. 

God, all these years later, and he still gets all excited about fresh fruit. "Yeah, it's me." 

"Just in time for dinner. What a coincidence." Embry chuckled, making his way to the stove to check their meal. He ruffled Mickey's hair on the way, eliciting a huff from his son. 

Mickey looks around his parent's kitchen, smiling. The space is open and warm, smells like home cooking and happiness. Mark has his tablet out, reading some liberal politics website he's a big fan of. He can see Pops moving around the kitchen, and his heart settles. 

This is his home. This is his family. 

He never really thought too much about the concept when he was younger. When he was still living on Trumbull, still under Terry's thumb. The idea of family was a far off concept. Sure, the man was his father, biologically. His sperm swam into his mother's womb and created a zygote that would later become Mikhailio Aleksander Milkovich. He had brothers, and he had Mandy, but they were less like siblings, and more like a band of filthy urchins bonded through shared trauma. 

They lived together, defended each other against their father, and the harsh outside world. 

But that was as far as it went. No real love or support between them. 

Before Mickey's mother died, she's been so strung out, it was like she wasn't there at all. So lost in her addiction, she'd go days without even speaking to her children. So bent on heroin, nothing could reach her.

Not her children's cries, nor her husband's fists. 

Terry was a horrific human being. And the twelve years Mickey spent cowering under his rule scarred him eternally. Mickey still remembers it all in vivid clarity. The beatings, the drugs, the way his mother tried to hide her bruises with make up and strained smiles. 

Mickey won't ever forget the day it all changed. The day the earth quaked under his feet and his reality was altered inexorably. 

It was just a day. Like any other day. 

Mickey came home from school, his baby sister tucked under his arm. Mickey was barely twelve, but Mandy was only ten. So it fell to him to protect her from the shittiness of the South Side. 

He'd wandered up to his dilapidated house to find half the god damn Chicago PD standing in his trash-strewn front yard. A city ME van parked amidst the sea of CPD cruisers. 

His older brother Iggy, who was barely fifteen, was standing off to the side, looking haunted and exhausted as he spoke to a female detective. 

Mickey had known straight away that something awful had happened. Something he'd never come back from. 

And he'd been right. 

An older, tired looking detective had approached him. Wearing a suit jacket that was two sizes too big and an expression that spoke to years of being the bearer of the worst news. Mickey had instinctively backed away, pulling Mandy tighter to his chest. 

"Son." the man had said. "We're gonna have to take you and you sister downtown. There's been a murder." 

And little twelve-year-old Mickey had known. He may have been young, but he was in no way stupid or naive. 

He knew Terry had murdered his mother. 

After that, it was all fuzzy for a while. Being taken into foster care. Holding onto Mandy so hard. Snapping and snarling at anyone stupid enough to try and separate them. 

Days and nights spent in strange houses, hoarding all their personal possessions like so much gold. 

Going from place to place, never staying long enough to do more than catch their breath before it was on to the next. 

Hoping and praying to a god Mickey KNEW didn't exist to save them from this endless stream of almost-homes and fake families. 

Then, one day, almost a year after Terry killed his mother with a claw hammer, Mickey and Mandy were brought back to Social Services Headquarters. 

Mickey knew what that meant. 

Someone was interested in adopting them. 

Or... one of them. 

Mickey had fought the whole time. No way in hell he was letting anyone separate them. They'd already lost Iggy to a group home on Riverbend Avenue. 

He wouldn't lose his baby sister too. 

He'd die first. 

You'd imagine his surprise when Mark and Embry walked into the office, holding hands like being gay was just so damn normal and telling Delores, Mickey and Mandy's case worker, that they wanted to adopt both of them. 

Mickey had been so resistant. The shadow of Terry's hate hanging heavy on him. No way in hell he was going to go live with a couple of queers. 

Those first months at Mark and Embry's house was the a chaotic mess of screaming and crying. Lashing out at anyone and everyone that dared to step too close. 

He fought, he swore. He spit in Mark's face more than once. 

But they never wavered. They never threatened to send him back. They never called him a mistake or an asshole or an abomination. (like Terry did that one time he found him looking at gay porn. Mickey got a black eye and a broken rib for that.)

They never rejected him. 

Still, living with Mark and Embry had been a nightmare at first. The embodiment of what Mickey was most afraid of. Abuse he could deal with. Anger he understood. Fists and cruel name calling. Neglect. 

But these guys were different. Confusing Mickey to no end. Kind? Caring? Compassionate? 

Mickey hated it, because he didn't understand it. He couldn't trust their open, honest eyes, or their soft, soothing words. It all felt like the cruelest kind of trick, and he refused to fall for it. 

He couldn't allow himself to hope. Not when he knew it would only crush him later. 

The nicer they were, the more Mickey resisted. But no matter what Mickey did, or how awful he was to them, they just remained calm and patient. 

Mickey waned to deck them, then set them on fire.

But after time, care and gentle reassurance, Mickey started to come around. He started to see them as people and not just faggots who wanted to change him.

He started to see them as people who gave a shit. 

Mickey had spent all that time waiting for the hammer to drop. For Mark and Embry to pull the rug out from under him, toss him aside, send him back where he came from. 

But they never did. Not once did they make Mickey feel unwanted. They put up with all his shit, and loved him through it. Loved him when he couldn't love himself. 

It took a while. Mickey wasn't all that open to letting a pair of queens come anywhere near him or his sister. But Mark and Embry were relentless. They stuck around through all the insults. All the name calling. All the violent outbursts and all the desperate, directionless violence. 

By the time the adoption went through, Mickey was finally coming to terms with the idea that Mark and Embry were the real deal. They cared about Mickey and Mandy. They wanted to keep them, to raise them with the love and support they'd been sorely lacking their entire lives. 

It wasn't easy, of course. Even at thirteen years old, Mickey had an endless list of hangups and emotional issues. He was behind in school and had several run-ins with the law already. He was also carrying the guilt and shame of his Big Gay Secret. 

Mandy wasn't much better. She had vicious nightmares almost every night, and panic attacks. Terry had done a number on her too. Abused her in the most depraved, horrific way imaginable. Mandy carried the heavy weight of that abuse, the dark stain of shame on her like scar tissue. She had started cutting herself not long before they went into foster care. Unable to process that pain or the emotions associated with it.

Problems no ten year old should have to bear. 

Mickey and Mandy were both a mess for a long time. Acting out and breaking down, unable to accept that their nightmare was truly over. Sabotaging their fresh start, afraid to accept that it was real. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Mark and Embry had seen all this, of course. They witnessed every breakdown, cleaned up every smashed cup and plastered the holes Mickey punched through walls. They held Mandy when she cried, calmed her through her episodes. They talked Mickey down from every violent outburst, never once lost their tempers. 

Mickey had no idea what to do with that kind of support. He was utterly lost, for a long time. Unwilling or unable to accept the fact that there were good people in the world, and that those good people wanted Mickey as a son. 

Therapy helped. 

Mickey had been resistant to that too, of course. The only therapy he'd ever had was court ordered, or during one of his short stays in juvie before his mom died. But it was part of his care plan through social services, so he hadn't had a choice. 

It took a long time for Mickey to feel comfortable talking to Matt, his therapist. Months of sitting silently, muttering one word answers to Matt's questions. Dancing around his issues, or ignoring them all together.

But Matt was just as patient as Mark and Embry. He let Mickey go at his own pace, working through his myriad of issues and his bottomless pit of self-loathing. Mickey had known he was fucked up, even at that young age. What he didn't know was how bad it really was. Coming from the south side, where shit like abuse, addiction and poverty were normal, it never occurred to Mickey that how he felt wasn't right. 

Matt was also the first person he ever admitted his sexuality to. God, that had been a nightmare session. Mickey had actually cried for the first time in therapy, letting all that shame and disgust spill out of his mouth. It took months of work with his therapist before he started feeling like maybe being gay wasn't this massive character defect. That maybe he wasn't a disgusting mistake of a person. 

When Mickey finally grew the balls to tell his parents that he was gay, about two months after his fourteenth birthday, his heart had been in his throat. Palms sweaty, nervous energy bubbling through his veins. 

Of course, all that anxiety was for nothing. Mark and Embry had just smiled, like Mickey had made them so proud. Hugged him and told him he could love whoever he wanted. That no matter what, they would support him and never abandon him. 

No one had ever said anything like that to him before. 

That was when Mickey knew he was truly home. Mark and Embry Davidson were his parents, and they loved him. 

"I thought you had plans with Maria tonight." Embry says, pulling three beers from the fridge. He pops the tops and passes one to Mickey before taking a seat next to Mark at the bar. 

"She cancelled on me last minute." Mickey groused. "Think she has a hot date." 

"Oh yeah?" Mark laughed, smiling. "Thought she was taking a break from dating." 

"Yeah, well, you know how she is." Mickey replied. 

His parents chuckled, nodding. 

Maria may be Mickey's friend, but Mark and Embry accepted her into their family like another child. Grown as he is, Mickey still spends a lot of time with his dads, and Maria fit seamlessly into their rag tag little family. Mandy adores her, and she even charmed Iggy when he visits on the holidays. 

"Well, is she still coming to get pumpkins with us?" Mark asks, plating up three huge portions of chicken piccata and laying them out on the breakfast bar. Mickey dug in immediately. God, no one on the planet was a better cook than his dad. "Mandy's coming, and she's bringing that new boyfriend of hers. I know Maria won't want to miss that." 

"Yeah." Mickey said, chasing down his bite of food with a long pull from his beer. "Mari will be there."

"Well, we'll get this guy's name from her then." Embry decided, smirking. 

"Nah, I'll get it out of her before then." Mickey countered. "I'll be seeing her tomorrow. We're working on our costumes." 

"Ah." Embry crowed, excited. "I can't wait to see the pictures. She's so talented."

"She is." Mark agreed. "Are you going to use these for Halloween and Comic Con?" 

Mickey's dads have always been supportive of his hobbies. Unlike Terry, who told him soccer was for pussies and writing was a faggot's pastime, Mark and Embry had cheered him on and praised his work since they took him home. 

Mark and Embry went to every soccer game, even the out of state ones. They threw him a party when he got accepted to University of Chicago on a full ride sports scholarship. They paid for him to take creative writing classes for fun, and got him an Avengers singing telegram when he got his PT license. 

Corny motherfuckers, but they loved him, and weren't afraid to show it. 

Mickey's damn lucky, and he knows it. Sometimes he feels like he doesn't deserve it. Could never deserve it. But he has it, and he's grateful. 

"Yeah, we're using these for both." Mickey answered his dad's question between bites of chicken. "Company Halloween party's a week before Comic Con, so it works out." 

"And who are you guys gonna be again?" Embry asks. 

"The Winter Soldier and Black Widow." Mickey replied, grinning. Maria always looked so bad ass when she dressed up as Natasha Rominov. 

She's bad ass as it is, but there's something about the cat suit and all those guns that really does something for her. 

"Is that what you're writing about right now?" Mark asks, brows furrowed. 

Mickey laughed, nodding. His parents interest in his fan fiction always made him chuckle. 

Though the idea of Mark or Embry reading his gay smut still made him a little queasy. 

"Why don't you go as the...what is it honey?" Mark turns to his husband waving at him. "Help me out here." 

"The ship, darling." Embry chuckles. 

"Yes!" Mark yelped, snapping his fingers. "The ship!" he pointed his finger at Mickey, smiling. "Your ship, kiddo. Stucky, right?" 

Mickey groaned, blushing. Why did he ever explain shipping to his parents? "Yes, Pops, I ship Stucky. But as you know, that's Steve and Bucky. I don't ship WinterWidow. And Maria would make a terrible Cap." 

"WinterWidow." Embry laughed. "I just love these ship names you kids come up with. So clever! I don't remember having this kind of thing at your age. I mean, it's all so complex. Shipping, fan fiction, Comic con. It's all very involved." 

Mickey nodded. His pops wasn't wrong. Ever since he got into fandoms, it kind of took over a big chunk of his life. Not that he'd change anything. The world of comics, the movie franchises and the fandoms he participates in have brought him happiness he'd never anticipated. Friendships like the one he shares with Maria, and an outlet for his art that he never would have considered otherwise. 

So Mickey's a big geeky fanboy. Sue him. 

"It's a lot." Mickey concedes with a small smile. "But it makes me happy." 

"That's all that matters to us, kiddo." Mark said, smiling. Mickey smiled back, once again overwhelmed by his own good luck. 

His dads were just the best. 

"Well, I want pictures." Embry insisted. "And a link to that story you were telling me about, what was it, hon? Angsty ending??" 

"Angst with a happy ending, you dumbass." Mark laughed, rolling his eyes. Embry pouted until Mark kissed him sweetly on the lips.

"I'll get a handle on all this jargon one day." Embry insisted, grinning at his son.

Mickey laughed along, shaking his head.

His dads were clueless, but he sure as hell loved them. 

***

"Wow." Ian said, eyes wide. "Was...did...." he looked over at Maria to find her smirking at him. "Did you feel that? Like they seem like more than friends, right?" 

It had started with one movie. Captain America: The First Avenger. During the movie, they chatted about the characters, their story lines and motivations. Ian's not stupid, he can tell Maria's been grilling him about himself intermittently throughout the movie, offering up small details about herself as they speak. It's like a meet and greet, with explosions and super villains interspersed at random intervals. Ian can't say he minds, Maria is funny and the more time Ian spends with her, the more he likes her. They talk about their childhoods. His on the south side, and hers over on the west side. It doesn't get too personal, any time the topic veers into painful territory, Maria steers the conversation back to the movie. She's a skilled interrogator. Ian can't help but think she'd make a good therapist. 

No matter what they talk about though, their attention inevitably gets drawn back to the movies. Ian can't believe he's this intrigued by a fucking Marvel movie. Once they get started, it's hard to stop. 

Three movies and six hours later hours Ian was for sure intrigued. He honestly hadn't meant to watch all three, but once he got started, it was hard to stop. Maria's enthusiasm is contagious, and Ian found himself easily getting swept up in the narrative of the movie, impressed with the action and drawn to the emotions.

Sexy super heroes aside, the connection between the main character and his long lost best friend/brainwashed assassin was what got to Ian. "They seem much closer than just friends." 

"I knew I liked you for a reason." Maria smirked. "Check this out." she grabbed her tablet off the coffee table and opened up google. Typing "Stucky" into the search bar, she brought up the results and passed the tablet over to Ian. 

"Stucky?" 

"Yeah, their ship name. As in 'relationship'- Like Branjelina. Remember that?" 

"Ship? Oh, like Steve and Bucky together? That's a thing?" Ian could feel his face heating up. He thought his gay brain had fabricated the odd energy between the two characters in the movie. 

"It's not canon compliant, which is bullshit." Maria spat, tone surprisingly harsh. "But that's what the fandom is for." she pointed out different sites for Ian to peruse. Fan art. Beautiful images, hand drawn or computer generated. Video edits and songs. Even whole stories based on these characters and others from the movie. Places to buy t-shirts and stickers. Necklaces and phone cases. Sweatpants. Even lingerie. It was honestly overwhelming, the sheer amount of content for a fictional couple that never so much as kissed. 

"Wow." Ian said, flicking through websites as fast as his fingers would let him. He's usually not one to get sucked into this kind of thing. Never been a super fan of any TV show or movie franchise. He is in a couple fan groups on Facebook. Walking Dead, The Office - that kind of thing. Funny memes and episode discussions. 

But looking though these websites for Marvel and Stucky fans, Ian feels out of his depth. 

"Here, let me help, it can be overwhelming at first." Maria plucked the tablet from Ian's fingers and brought up a Facebook fan page.

"Stucky Anonymous?" Ian chuckled, eyebrows raised. Maria glared at him, clearly struggling to keep her face severe.

"That's my page, asshole." she said, pointing to the tablet. "Join up. All the links you'll need as a baby shipper are in there. Check out the fan fiction especially, it links right to the AO3 page. I have some stories on there. My pseudonym is MarieAntionette. Ha." 

"AO-what?" brow furrowed, Ian stared at his new friend. "Wait, you write?" Ian gaped. Maria was just full of interesting surprises. 

"Yeah, I do." Maria blushed, preening a little. "It's mostly porn, though. Just so you know." 

Now it was Ian's turn to blush. "Maria, do you write gay porn?" 

"Don't look so surprised." she smirked, pointing at the tablet. On the screen was a steamy photo manipulation of Steve and Bucky in the throes of passion. "Those two right there area work of art, how could I not get inspired?" 

Ian grinned, his eyes moving back to the hot as fuck men entwined passionately on the screen. "Inspired... Right." 

Maria jumped up from the couch, waving off Ian's questioning glance. "Keep looking, I'm going to go get your costume. We gotta get you in it, see what kind of alterations I'm gonna have to make." 

Ian nodded, his eyes immediately drawn back to the artwork. 

It's only after Maria's been gone for a good ten minutes that it clicked. 

Maria, Marvel super fan, is dressing him up as Captain America for Halloween. This whole evening has been a ploy to ensnare him in her fandom web. 

Jesus. 

It worked. 

***

Oct 28, 2109

"I can't believe the party's tonight." Tyler sighs, leaning up against the nurse's station. "Where did the month of October go?" 

The hospital's Halloween party was that evening. Tyler had been gathering little accessories for his costume for weeks. He was going to be the nastiest looking zombie this side of the Walking Dead. 

Molly chuckled, shaking her head. "If you'd pay more attention to what's going on around you instead of losing time in your god damn phone, you'd notice a lot more." 

"Tyler locked his phone screen with another drawn out sigh, pocketing the device. "Happy now, killjoy?" 

"You're working, may I remind you?" Molly shot back, not looking up from her typing. "Or you're supposed to be working. Don't you have blood to draw?" 

"I'm waiting for the order to come through." Tyler defended. Molly opened her mouth, obviously to tell him to go wait somewhere else, when Maria sauntered up, looking smug. 

That's never a good sign for anyone. 

"What?" Tyler asks, instantly wary. 

"Nothing." Maria smirked. "Just love it when a plan comes together." 

"You're talking about Ian and Mickey, aren't you?" Tyler shoved and accusing finger in Maria's face, which she batted away. 

"You're still on your high horse about that?" Molly laughed. "Just you wait, once they lay eyes on each other tonight, it's a done deal. Mark my words." 

"You guys are insane." Tyler replied. "Just because two gay guys ship the same movie characters, that doesn't mean their flippin' soul mates." 

"It's not just that." Marie insisted. "I know Mick better than anyone. And I've spent the last month hanging out with Ian, getting to know him. They're a good match." 

"That's what I thought about Derek." Tyler shot back, guilt bubbling in his gut. 

"Tyler, honey." Molly interjected, that sickly sweet smile on her face. "You are the only one that thought Derek was a good idea. That man was a poor excuse for a human being. Rude, condescending, and possessive. I can't imagine why you'd think he was good for Mickey." 

"Okay, but I didn't know he was a dick when I introduced them. Derek seemed like a totally normal dude." 

"And you gathered that from your deep, meaningful conversations on the treadmill?" Maria asks, eyebrow cocked. 

"Men form life-long friendships at the gym." Tyler squeaked, indignant. 

The only reply he got from his friends were twin eye rolls. 

"So, back to the matter at hand." Molly said, shushing Tyler with a single raised finger. He glowered at her, but didn't speak again. "Ian and I are going to the party together tonight. He has his costume?" 

"Yeah, I set him up real sweet. Too bad he's a ginger, or he'd be the spitting image of Cap. But besides that, he's a carbon copy of the Star Spangled Man with a Plan." Marie swooned dramatically, fanning herself. "Let me tell you, so hot." 

Molly chuckled while Tyler continued to scowl. 

"You want me to believe that you not only turned Ian fucking Gallagher into a fandom freak overnight, but you convinced him to squeeze his ridiculously toned behind into one of your spandex monstrosities?" 

"You doubted me?" Maria shot back, still smirking. "Besides, I told you, I'd be happy to get you all set up in sexy little Iron Man suit." 

"Iron Man is not nearly as sexy as Cap." Tyler whined, petulant. 

"Don't you dare disparage Tony Stark in my presence." Molly growled, eliciting a chuckle from Maria and another groan from Tyler. 

"Anyway." Maria tried to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Not only did I get Ian into costume for the party, but I've already got him to beginner level Fanboy. I know you noticed he joined our Facebook group. And I've got him reading my fics." 

"You don't!" Tyler gasped, scandalized. "You corrupted that sweet innocent Irishman with your shameless filth?" 

"I see your kudos all of my fics, you kink-shamer." Maria accused. Tyler's mouth snapped shut right quick. "Besides, it's just to get the ball rolling between them." Maria's expression softened, a small, wistful smile on her lips. "Mick's been through so much, and from just my short time knowing Ian, I know he's been through the ringer too. They have so much in common. Not just their upbringing, but their state of mind, and the way they carry themselves. They both have that hard outer shell. That 'don't fuck with me' vibe, but underneath it they are just a couple of dorky boys who are in desperate need of affection. And even though I'd love to supply them will all the TLC they require, some things even I am not capable of. I know this is a good idea. The fandom shit is just an icebreaker. Get two cute gay boys talking about hot superheros kissing? It's bound to lead somewhere glorious." 

"You are disgustingly confident." Tyler said, chuckling lightly. 

"That's what happens when you're never wrong." Maria retorted, laughing loudly as Molly put her hand up and they exchange gleeful high-fives. 

"You two are insufferable." Tyler groaned. "I don't know why I put myself through this torture." 

Marie and Molly lost it laughing at that, and the conversation naturally evolved from their secret plot to hook up their coworkers to their own debaucherous plans for the Halloween party. 

***

"We look incredible." Maria smirked as they made their way through the lobby of the Hyatt. The hotel was already crawling with hospital employees in a wide variety of costumes. Mickey glanced around the space, taking in the holiday decor. They weren't even in the ballroom yet, but even the lobby was decked out in spooky fare. Fake cobwebs, jack-o-lanterns, little plastic bats and silk leaves in all kinds of fall colors. It was classy, not that cheesy shit you see at the Y's Halloween parties, but still kitschy enough to give you that childlike feel when you stepped into the space. 

"Of fucking course we look incredible." Mickey scoffed, his eyes traveling between their two costumes. 

Bucky Barnes and Natasha Rominov, aka The Winter Soldier and Black Widow. A pair of the Marvel Universe's most ruthless assassins, trained by the Nazis and the USSR's elite death squads. Highly skilled in endless forms of combat and firearms, master spies as well as the deadliest killers on the planet. 

But underneath all that blood and badassery was a set of lost, lonely, sad people, just looking for their place in the world. Someone to have their backs. 

Eventually breaking free of their captors, they went on to be heroes in their own right.

It was no wonder Mickey and Maria loved playing these characters so much. Hit pretty close to home, if Mickey's being honest with himself. 

Maria was decked out in a black latex cat suit, tight red belt, buckle emblazoned with a deadly black widow spider. She had a plethora of fake knives strapped to her thighs and a scary looking taser bracelet encircling her left wrist. She even died her hair a deep red to match the character. Maria never did anything by halves. 

She looked downright deadly. 

Mickey looks just as ominous as The Winter Soldier. All black tactical jacket and pants, with his own arsenal of fake weaponry. (He can't wait to see the look on that frigid HR bitches face when she lays eyes on the sheer quantity of knives and guns strapped to their respective bodies. All fake, of course, or they'd never have made it through the metal detector.) The look topped off with a pair of black tactical goggles, and a stringy looking brown wig, giving Mickey a frightening, feral aura. 

Any time Mickey dresses up as the Winter Solider, he slips into the character's mindset. Cool, calculating, assessing. This dangerous sort of confidence descends on him, and he feels powerful and in control and honestly, sexy as fuck. 

It was nice to feel that way, for once in his life. 

Maria has told him more than once that she feels the same way when she dresses up in any of her cosplay costumes. Mickey supposes that's part of the reason they do these things. Get lost in the movies, read and write the stories, dress up and go out, pretend to be these enigmatic, powerful people. 

It's an escape. A momentarily reprieve from the mundane responsibilities of everyday life. Not that Mickey's looking for an escape from his life, he's happy. 

It's just fun to step outside yourself and play pretend once in a while. 

"Mickey!" Maria waved a gloved hand in his face, smirking at him. "Are you drunk already?" 

"No." Mickey laughed. "Just thinking about how incredible you are, making these costumes." 

Maria blushed, shoving Mickey so hard he stumbled. "Shut it." 

Mickey smirked back. Seems like he's not the only asshole that can't take a compliment. 

"C'mon." Maria said, tucking her arm into Mickey's elbow. "Buy me drink at the open bar." 

Mickey laughed, shaking his head as he let his crazy best friend lead him into the lion's den of a company party.

***

"I feel ridiculous." Ian groaned, pawing at his thighs self-consciously. He felt like a vienna sausage. So much meat packed into this tiny little casing. 

"You look ridiculously hot. Shut your damn face." Molly snarked back, eyeing Ian. 

Ian couldn't help but feel like he stood out a bit, standing among his friends. Tyler had gone with a zombie costume. Dirty, ripped clothes, make up that made it look like his face was rotting off. His hair was knotted and unkempt, and Ian has to wonder how he's going to get those tangles out later. 

Molly had gone with a pretty standard witch costume, black dress, pointy hat. Tall, scary looking satin pumps. Dark gothic make-up, thankfully forgoing any green face paint. 

But Ian was a whole other animal, and he knew it. Just from the open staring of his coworkers, and Tyler's constant attention on his abs. 

Maria had really outdone herself with Ian's Captain American costume. Red white and blue leotard, emblazoned with the stars and stripes. Ian's muscles bulged in the tight, long-sleeved outfit, leaving little to the imagination. He had a tight leather harness on his shoulders, making the muscles in his arms bulge dramatically. 

Molly smirked as she watched Tyler take in Ian's thick thighs and tight ass in the deep navy legs of his suit. 

"Hey, Evil Dead." Ian caught Tyler's attention, snapping his fingers in his face. "My eyes are up here." 

The zombified phlebotomist gaped at Ian, and under all that nasty make up, Ian is certain he's blushing like a fool. 

"Sorry, it's just...." Tyler made a sweeping motion up and down Ian's body, from the American flag motif to the giant metal shield in his hand. 

"Thanks...I think." Ian replied, blushing himself. 

He has to admit, dressing up as Captain America is just as heady an experience anticipated when Maria first pitched the idea. 

Steve Rogers has some big shoes to fill...

Ian may be new to this whole fandom thing. He may be an utter novice when compared to Maria. But over the past month, he's lost himself to the thrill of something new and intriguing. Maria is an enabler. There is no other word for it. She's constantly asking him over her house to go through her seemingly endless collection of Marvel movies. Sending him link to new fics and fan art, Tumblr blogs he 'needs to follow, god damn it.' - It's still just as overwhelming as it was that first night, but now it's equally as exciting. 

And the porn. Sweet jesus, the porn. 

Ian didn't really know reading porn was a thing. Amatuer-written porn at that. But he's almost ashamed to admit he's jerked off to these steamy stories more than once. Even Maria's work gets him going, and she's clearly never had gay sex with a man. 

It's an enigma. 

But...it's a little late to turn back now. He's incredibly happy with his new...hobby? 

Not to mention the fact that he knows he looks fucking hot, all decked out as Captain America. 

"No, but seriously." Tyler groaned, taking a single step forward, hand outstretched as if to grip Ian's pectoral muscles. "How are you real?" 

"No touchy." Molly snarked, slapping Tyler's hand away. Tyler hissed, cradling his hand to his chest. 

"Owie." he whined. 

Ian chuckled, opening his mouth to tease his friend a little more when Molly put her hand on his arm. 

"Ian, I want to introduce you to some friends." she said cryptically, pulling him away from Tyler. 

Ian gave Tyler a little wave as they left the zombie to attack the food table and made their way across the room. It looked like Molly was leading Ian to a table in the back corner of the banquet hall. Maria's table, it seemed. 

As they got closer, Ian noticed he recognized most of the people at the table by name at least, even if he didn't really know them all that well. 

Sometimes Ian feels like Molly is friends with every single hospital employee. 

Molly sat in a vacant seat at Maria's table, pulling Ian to sit next to her with a hand around his wrist. Ian dropped gracelessly down next to her, placing his shield on the floor by his feet. 

"Maria, you look amazing." Molly smiled. 

"Thanks girl, you look good too." Maria winked at Molly before turning to Ian. "Ian, damn. I did an incredible job on your costume, if I do say so myself." 

Ian blushed, running his fingers through his hair, suddenly shy under such scrutiny from so many people. Everyone at the table was looking at him. In his crazy tight, patriotic super hero costume. 

Ian turned to Maria, the only other person he knew at the table. "Maria, you look amazing. I knew you'd do Black Widow justice." 

Maria smirks, tossing her newly red hair over her shoulder with a flirty wink. Ian knew she was going to be gorgeous, he watched her build this costume from scratch over the past month. But watching her toil over her sewing machine and try on bits and pieces was no comparison to the full effect. The all black cat suit clung to her body like a second skin, accentuating her curves, making her look svelte and frankly, quite deadly. 

Natasha Rominov, living and breathing in front of him. 

"Ian, let me introduce you to our friends." Maria smiled, then went about introduction around the table. "That gorgeous gypsy girl is Michelle. She works in Records. 

Ian said hello, and Michelle waved back. Her costume was something else. An off white peasant top and a huge flower print skirt, pooling around her feet in waves. She had her dark hair held back by a headscarf, little gold coins dangling from her ears. 

"And that is Tamara, she heads up the Billing Department." 

Ian gave Tamara another smile. Ian had to hand it to these people, their costumes were no joke. Tamara was dressed as the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. Black and red dress with embroidered roses all over the bodice. The skirts were full, the black tulle clearly visible from her seat. A gold rope necklace and a little gold crown finished the look. 

Ian was impressed, she looked every bit the Red Queen. 

"Terry is our head Patient Coordinator, over there in the Wonder Woman costume. 

Ian chuckled, waving. Terry waved back. "Nice to meet you Ian. We make quite a pair in our patriot fare." 

Ian had to agree. Terri's costume: red bodice with the ubiquitous gold wings across the chest, blue knee-length skirt with white stars dotted all over it. They did indeed make quite a pair. 

"And last, but certainly not least, our Mikhalio." Maria's voice was off, almost teasing. Mikhailio? That name did not sound familiar at all. Ian wracks his brain for a coworker with such an exotic name, but comes up empty. 

Ian cast his eyes to the far corner of the table, where someone was sitting in the shadows. The party was in full swing now, and the low lighting had hid this man quite well. 

The man leans forward, and Ian audibly gasps. 

The fucking Winter Soldier? 

Ian stares at the masked assassin. The masked assassin stares back. Ian's can't really see the man in the darkness of the ballroom, but from what he can see, he's intrigued. In all black tactical gear, he looks like a real special ops assassin. The long dark hair and black tactical goggles make him look more machine than man. Ian's moderately surprised to see that both Maria and this Mikhalio person are decked out in a plethora of weapons. He can't imagine the VP of the hospital would be very happy to see that.

But Ian can admit, it does add to the sexy dangerousness of the whole thing. 

But the true draw of the costume is the metal arm. It looks real. Ian's never seen anything like it outside the movies. Not in all the fan cosplay photos or the comic con contests. That metal appendage is a work of art, and Ian is suddenly desperate to know how this guy made that thing. 

It adds an ominous threat to his whole being, and Ian is instantly turned on. 

If he didn't have a huge boner for Bucky Barnes already, he would now. And, by association, he now has a huge boner for this total stranger. 

Classy, Ian.

"Nice to meet you." The Winter Soldier...No, Mikhailio says. Though he's not looking at Ian when he says it. He's glaring daggers at Maria. 

Ian flushes, feeling oddly embarrassed for some reason. "Yeah, you too." Ian stares at the man, trying to place him from work, but with the long hair and the dark goggles, it's damn near impossible. He's built, Ian can tell that much. Gorgeous arms and a pair of muscular legs poking out from under the table, but cute boys are a dime a dozen at Chicago Memorial. 

Who is this guy, and how did Ian miss him? 

***

Mickey is fucking heated. 

This is a fucking set up if there ever was one. 

He knew it! He fucking knew his friends were gonna pull some dating game bulllshit at this party. 

He should have stayed home. 

He gives Maria (his former best friend) the deadliest glare he can. He rips off his mask, tossing it on the table then tears off his goggles, propping them up on top of his head so he can really express his displeasure to Maria. 

Captain Fucking America. Mickey's one weakness. The culmination of all his wet dreams and wank sessions. The one fictional character he lives his life hard for. 

And here is the god honest living embodiment of the man, sitting mere feet away looking like a sexy propaganda tool. It's insanely hot, and grossly unfair. 

Mickey stands from the table quickly, grabbing Maria by her arm and jerking her upright next to him. "Drinks." he mutters, turning away from the table and dragging his giggling best friend behind him like an unruly puppy. 

"Was it something I said?" he hears a bewildered Ian ask. The table erupts in laughter and Mickey scowls, heading for the bar without looking back. 

"Mick, what are you doing?" Maria hisses, letting Mickey drag her to the bar. They get there in record time and Mickey orders them both a Moscow Mule. (gotta stay in character.) He doesn't say a word until he's got a healthy dose of Russian vodka swimming in his blood. 

Once his anger has dwindled, he turns to a suspiciously contrite looking Maria. 

Oh fuck no. She's not getting off that easy. 

"Please, for the love of all that's holy, tell me you aren't trying to set me up with some random asshole by playing on my love of Stucky." he growls, knowing full well he sounds like an idiot. 

That sentence has to be the most ridiculous string of words to ever slip past his lips. 

"Mick, listen." Maria starts, laying a gentle hand on his metal arm. "I'll admit, Molly brought the idea to me as a funny little joke. We are all so into the fandom, and you and Ian just remind us all so much of Steve and Bucky." 

"They're not REAL, Mari." Mickey spits, clueless as to where she's going with all this. How can she think using a fucking ship is good way to bring to living, breathing people together? People who don't know each other from Adam? People who have nothing in common except a lust for fictional characters and a pair of overpriced, stupidly complicated costumes?"

"Mickey." Maria sighed, stepping closer so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders. "I don't think any fandom is a secret to love. I don't think it's a magic bullet to fix all your problems. I don't think it's any kind of substitute for real life. You know me." 

Mickey sighed, nodding. 

Maybe he's over reacting. Just a little. 

"Listen, I know you're still all fucked up over Derek." when Mickey scoffed, she quietly shushed him. "You are, and that's okay. He was awful to you, and I know you've got a lot of damage from him, and from before him. But just cuz one guy fucked you over, doesn't mean you give up the whole idea of finding someone." 

"I'm not giving up, I'm just not looking." Mickey insisted, his throat feeling tight. Yeah, Derek shit all over him, brought him back to a place he'd abandoned when he left Terry's house. A place where he felt small, broken. 

But that doesn't mean he IS broken. 

He just needed a break from the dating world for a while after all that. 

He told Maria as much. 

"And I get that." Maria insisted. "And like I said, this shit with Ian started as a joke, but once I got to know him, you were all I could think about." 

Mickey put his drink down on the bar, turning to face Maria. "What?" 

"I swear Mick. He's funny, and smart, and loves Marvel just as much as we do. He's fallen down the rabbit hole, and it's the cutest shit I've ever seen. And he's not some elitist north side prick, like Derek. He grew up poor, fought his way to a better life, so he gets what it's like growing up like that. He's seen his fair share of shit and he doesn't let it hold him back. Like someone else I know." she waggled her eyebrows. 

Mickey scoffed again. 

"He's a good guy, Mick. I just want you to be happy. Just talk to him, please?" 

Mickey groaned, but could already feel his indignant rage subsiding. 

Maria wasn't wrong, Ian was cute. All decked out like Cap, smiling all sweet, looking so nervous. 

Mickey licked his lips, considering. It didn't have to mean anything. It was party, after all. He could talk to the guy, see where it went. Maybe cop a feel. 

His 'no coworkers' rule is blasting through his brain like an air raid siren. He has that rule for a reason. A good reason. Workplace flings are messy, can lead to a lot of drama Mickey just doesn't have time for. 

But...what the fuck? That guy is simultaneously dripping sex and giving off ridiculous puppy vibes. 

The combination is intoxicating, and Mickey can feel himself literally throwing all his rules out the window.

It didn't have to come to anything. Mickey is the king of casual. 

"You're a menace." Mickey groaned, throwing back the rest of his drink. Maria squealed like a banshee, toasting Mickey's empty glass and drinking to her victory. 

Mickey can play it off like he's not interested, but Maria's certain he'll be singing a different tune by the end of the night. 

***

"Um, maybe I should go." Ian said, toying with his stupid shield. Clearly something was up, and Ian was the only new addition to the group. So he's obviously the reason Maria and her Winter Soldier friend jumped up and ran like the table was on fire the moment he sat down. 

"No, Ian, stay." Molly said, giving Ian a gentle smile. It was a look he hadn't seen from his sarcastic friend before. Ian stopped short, glancing around the table warily.

"Molly, what's going on?" 

Molly didn't answer, but Tyler did. "It's not a big deal." was the first thing he said. 

Ian glared at him, his fingers flexing on the neck of his beer bottle. 

Whenever someone prefaced a statement with 'it's not a big deal.' it's usually a big fucking deal. 

"What?" Ian spat, growing irritated. He hadn't even finished his first drink, and was already itching to leave. His eyes shot over to the bar where Mikhalio and Maria were having what looked like a heated discussion.

"It's just....we were kinda thinking how cute you and Mick would look together." Tyler said quietly. 

"Mick?" 

"Mikhailio." Molly supplied. "Mickey for short." 

"And we know he like, adores Cap and Bucky. And you adore Cap and Bucky. And you're both gay and hot and so nice..." Tyler trailed off sheepishly. 

"Wait a second." Ian said, the wheels in his brain turning slowly. "Are you...do you mean to tell me that this whole thing, the past fucking MONTH of me hanging out with you guys, becoming friends with Maria...her getting me into Marvel and Stucky...all that was a set up? To hook me up with that guy?" Ian points an accusatory finger at the bar, where the Winter Soldier, no where Mickey is still yelling at Maria. 

The guilty looks he's getting from his so-called friends is enough to clue Ian into the reality of the situation. 

None of this meant anything. None of it was real. Maria doesn't want to be his friend. None of these people do. 

Ian is the victim of a long con. 

"Ian, calm the fuck down." Molly spat, clearly unimpressed with Ian's meltdown. "No one hoodwinked you. Does this look like Saturday Evening Murder Mystery? Get a grip, kiddo." 

"But..." Ian trailed off. He was feeling confused, and a little bit foolish. Like he'd been played. Probably because he has. 

Ian could feel his face breaking out in a hot blush, his anxiety and insecurity roaring to the forefront of his mind. No one wanted him here, it was so stupid joke set up with some hot guy who doesn't even know Ian's name. 

He nervously glanced at Molly, opening his mouth to excuse himself, make a hasty exit, before this situation could become any more mortifying. 

The fact that he was dressed in this red, white and blue monstrosity only made him more self-conscious. 

"No, listen." Molly interrupted again. "It may have started with me asking Maria to scope you out in hopes of setting you up with Mickey. But the Marvel shit is Maria's own weirdo test. That shit is so near and dear to her heart, she uses it at the metric for all her friends."

Ian nodded, though he didn't feel any less confused. Or embarrassed. 

"So, when you and Maria hit it off, that was real. Real friendship. Just like me and you, hon. You know I adore you." Molly gave Ian one of those rare, genuine smiles of hers, and Ian felt his hackles going down. "She really likes you, Ian. And Mickey is her best friend. When she found out you shared her passion for Marvel, one that Mickey is a super fan of, I might add, this costume party just seemed like a good opportunity to introduce you two. Y'know, outside of work, on neutral territory, and with the comics and movies as a common point of interest." 

Ian smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Looks like he may have overreacted. 

Go figure. That never happens. 

"Sorry guys." Ian said, hiding his face behind his beer bottle. He took a long sip, trying to sooth his nerves. He just made a giant fool of himself in front of all his new work friends.

"Don't be sorry." Tyler insisted, socking Ian in the arm lightly. "To be honest, I wasn't sure it'd work out either..." Tyler tilted his head to the side, considering where the hole in their plan had been. The girls were convinced this moment had 'gay rom-com' written all over it, but somehow it had all gone terribly awry. Tyler doesn't like to say 'I told you so', but...

Ian needs some air. Even with the explanation, he still feels like a bit of a tool. And what happens when Mickey comes back over and wants nothing to do with Ian? 

Ian can't handle that right now. 

"I'm just gonna..." Ian moved to stand, but was held to his seat by a strong grip on his shoulder. Ian turned slowly....to find the Winter Soldier looming over him menacingly. 

"Hey." Mickey said, giving Ian a sly smile. He snatched his mask off the table, toying with it as he speaks. "Looks like we've been had, buddy. Can I buy you a beer?" 

Mickey doesn't really do this kinda thing. Anyone he's ever dated he met through friends, school, or his family. (his dads and his sister were notorious for setting him up) He'd never gone out of his way to hit on anyone at work, for a wide variety of reasons. 

The last time he let someone set him up had been Tyler's Derek debacle, and now Tyler knows to never try and set Mickey up again. Unless he wants his front teeth punched in.

But after what Maria had said, Mickey was intrigued. Not to mention this guy was earth-scorching hot. 

What harm could it do to talk to him a little? 

"Uh, okay." Ian said, his blush burning across his neck and chest again. Looks like this was happening after all. Ian can't say he's disappointed by that turn of events. He stood from the table, pointedly ignoring the giddy smiles of his companions as he grabbed his ridiculous shield and followed Mickey back to the bar. 

Maria was still sitting there, looking deadly gorgeous, and incredibly guilty. 

"Okay, I'm just gonna get it over with." Maria sighed as soon as Mickey and Ian sat down with her at the bar. She waited until both men were served before she spoke again. 

"I'm an asshole." she started, giving both boys a weak smile. 

"You don't say." Mickey sighed, rolling his eyes. 

Maria growled at him, low in her throat before fixing Ian with a sweet smile. "I'm sorry, Ian. I brought you here dressed as Captain America under false pretenses."

"You don't say." Ian replied, mirroring Mickey's words. Mickey shot him a little smirk, and Ian's insides did a somersault. 

"I do say." Maria shot back. She tossed her red curls over her shoulder, bracing herself for this apology. "I just want to preface this by saying I still think I'm right." 

Mickey scoffed. Ian just stared. 

This should be good. 

"It's just, Mickey's my best friend, and Ian, you're so cool. And you both love Marvel, and clearly you can both cosplay the fuck outta Stucky. I thought it'd be funny to see how you'd react." she sighed, taking a sip of her new drink. "But what I didn't consider was how it'd make either of you feel, to be put on the spot like that." she toyed with one of the fake knives strapped to her hip. "I just got so excited, thinking you guys might hit it off, I didn't stop to think if either of you might not want that. So I'm sorry." Maria licked her lips, feeling like kind of an asshole. 

It had sounded like a good idea at the time. But looking at the burning rage in her best friend's eyes right now, she's not so sure now. 

But then, Ian laughs. 

Maria balks, eyes wide, as Ian just throws his head back and just howled at the ceiling. Maria glanced over at Mickey, who was eyeing the redheaded Captain American with a confused lift to his brow. 

"No, no." Ian chuckled, shaking his head. "This is just..." he locked eyes with Maria, blinding smile splitting his face. "You tricked us both into dressing up like a fictional couple in hopes that sparks would fly? Fucking outrageous. This is just the most involved, bizarre set up I've even been a part of. This puts my sister's Grindr fiasco to shame." Ian laughed, shaking his head. "Word to the wise, never let you sister set you up with guys she picked off Gridnr, fucking horrifying." 

"You think?" Mickey laughed, giving Ian an easy smile. "The minute I let my sister anywhere near my gay hookup sites, that's the moment I hang it up for good."

Ian laughed, scooting closer to Mickey at the bar. "If you think sisters are bad, try meddling brothers. I have three of those." 

Mickey smiled, the sound of Ian's accent soothing a part of him he'd long since buried. "I get that. I only have one, and I don't see him as much as I'd like anymore, but god, he still always has his nose up all in my business. Gives the shittiest advice." 

Maria stared, mouth open, eye wide. Damn, maybe she didn't need to try so hard at all. These two seem to be doing just fine on their own. 

But...it never hurt to push a little. "Mickey, Ian's from the south side." she goaded. "Right Ian?" 

"Uh, yeah." Ian replied, glancing up at Maria curiously. "You know that." he looked back at Mickey with a shy smile. "I grew up on North Wallace, but I live over in Armour Square now." 

"Oh yeah?" Mickey smirked, eyeing Maria curiously. She just smiled sweetly. "I live down in Boystown myself now. But I grew up on Trumball Ave." 

"You did?" Ian perked up, their common history. "I don't remember you?" Ian eyed Mickey. Really took him in. It was hard, with the costume skewing his natural features, but Ian's still fairly certain he'd remember someone as striking as Mickey, if they'd indeed grown up together.

"Yeah, well, me and my sister were put in foster care when I was twelve and she was ten. After my mom died." 

Ian frowned, really looking at Mickey. Once he put it together, his stomach dropped. 

Mickey.  
Of fucking course. 

Ian was only ten years old when it happened, but in a neighborhood like the south side, something like the tale of Nadia Milkovich's gory murder was the kind of thing that spread quickly. 

Ian remember clearly. Little Mandy Milkovich being in his gym class one day, and just disappearing the next. Never to be seen or heard from again. Rumors flew all over the streets of the south side. That her and her brothers got sent back to Ukraine, that they got sold into slavery by Terry's Russian mafia connections. That they'd run away and joined the circus. 

Seems like it wasn't all that glamorous, after all. 

"I'm sorry." Ian says quietly, certain he's killed the mood. 

"Oh, don't be." Mickey smiled. "Yeah, it sucked my mom died, but it ended up turning out okay for me and Mands, our dads are just...the best guys." 

"Your DADS?" Ian balked, unable to control the comical double take at Mickey's words. 

Maria chuckled, clapping both boys on the shoulders as she quietly slunk back to their friends' table. 

Her work here is done. 

Mickey gave Ian a little smirk. "Don't sound so surprised. Just cuz I was born to a nasty homophobe doesn't mean I'm genetically predisposed to hate gays myself." Mickey glanced up Ian with a flirty little smirk. "Would be kinda hypocritical, seeing as how I'm a giant queer myself." 

Ian gaped. There's no other word for it. Mouth hanging open like it fell off it's hinge, eyes wide and disbelieving. 

"Sorry, my sister tells me I'm always putting my foot in my mouth. Was that too forward?"

"N-no." Ian shook his head, trying and failing to smile. "I mean, I get it, I do."

"Yeah?" Mickey smirked again, leaning in closer. The booze he's been drinking steadily is finally hitting him, and he's starting to forget why he thought hooking up with Ian was a bad idea in the first place. "You like boys too, Cap?" 

Ian cocked his head to the side, confused, until Mickey motioned toward his costume. 

Oh fuck. That's right. Costume party. 

"I, um, I do." Ian stammered. "I do like boys." why the fuck is he blushing? It's got to be the booze. He'd promised himself he'd only have two, and this is his second one in the hour. That has to be the reason he's stuttering like a fool and reddening like a tomato. 

It can't be just because this sexy fucker in the Winter Soldier costume is hitting on him. 

He is hitting on him, right? 

Is he?  
Fuck. 

"Are you sure?" Mickey teased. "Cuz you don't sound too sure." Mickey leaned even closer, letting their knees brush together. He'd be reticent at the beginning of the evening, but Maria's vote of confidence was turning the tide for him. 

The fact that Ian also clawed his way out of the old neighborhood and made a better life for himself was a big plus. Mickey has a hard time relating to the people in his new world. Even though he's been out of the south side since the sixth grade, that kind of upbringing ingrains itself into your DNA. 

You can never really shed that skin. 

Maybe, with Ian, he wouldn't have to. He wouldn't have to watch his language or worry about being politically correct. It can be exhausting, being a gay man in suburban Chicago. So many bleeding heart pussies, it's painful. 

"Oh, I'm sure." Ian grinned. He gathered up the remaining reserves of his courage, curling his arm around the back of Mickey's chair and pulling him close. "I am especially liking one boy in particular right now." 

Mickey just started for a moment, before tossing his head back and laughing. God, it was a nice sound. Even though Ian was fairly certain Mickey was laughing at him, he never wanted him to stop. 

"So, Ian, are you enjoying this party?" Mickey's change of topic hit Ian off guard. He frowned, lips pursed. 

"I mean, it's not the worst company party I've ever been too. Music sucks, but the free drinks are nice. But I'm not having a blast or anything." Ian cocked an eyebrow, confused. 

"Well," Mickey smirked, waggling his eyebrows. "Why don't you get your patriotic ass up and follow me then? My car's outside." 

"Your car?" Ian echoed, standing to follow Mickey nonetheless. He'd thought he'd outgrown his backseat hook up days, but looking at Mickey all decked out as the Winter Soldier, he was having serious second thoughts. 

"Kinda." Mickey hedged, grabbing his black tactical jacket and tossing it over his shoulder, looking like a homicidal James Dean. "You'll see. C'mon." 

Ian grabbed his gaudy metal shield and followed him, like a moth to the flame. 

At the moment, he thinks he'd follow Mickey anywhere. 

***

"See that!" Maria crowed, throwing both fists in the air. "Do you fucking see that?" she pointed over her shoulder, where Mickey and Ian were heading toward the exit of the party. 

"I mean, I see it, but I'm not sure I believe it." Tyler groaned, watching the sexy set of super soldiers leave the bland company party in the rear view mirror. "Maria, how the fuck? I can't believe your stupid mind games worked. How did you? What?" 

"I don't think it had all that much to do with the costumes, Tyler." Molly said, ever reasonable. "I think it was just the catalyst to get them talking." 

"I'm not so sure." Maria said. "Not that I know, or anything, but I'd bet my next paycheck that between passionate kisses and epic oral, those boys are gonna be talking fandom shit all night." 

"Maria, that's ridiculous." Tyler sighed. 

"Is it, though?" Molly asks, tilting her head. "It's the one thing they have in common that's not work or their rough upbringings. I can see Maria's point. It's an easy, baggage free topic for them to find connection through." 

"Oh, fuck off, Dr. Phil." Tyler groaned, picking at his flaking zombie make up. "Guys don't think like that." 

"Speak for yourself." Maria said. "You wanna put money on it, asshole?" Maria's competitive spirit was coming out to play. She hated being doubted, and Tyler was way off base here.

"Girl, you know I'm broke." Tyler sighed. 

"It's moot anyway." Molly decided, ending the conversation. "Either they click or they don't, fandom or not. It's out of our hands now. We've done the best we could." 

"Can we promise to stop trying to set people up with these ridiculously complicated plots now?" Tyler asks, hopeful. 

"Eh." both women replied, shrugging in sync. 

"So this is what you guys do for fun in your spare time?" Michelle interjected, leaning over the table, grinning wickedly. "How do I get in on this action?" 

The girls all laughed, already plotting their next great meddling adventure. 

Tyler groaned, burying his face in his arms. 

These women. The death of him. 

***

"Are you kidding me right now?" Ian laughed. He was standing in the parking lot of the Hyatt gawking at Mickey's van. 

Because it was a van. One of those huge ass conversion vans from the seventies. Ian could barely believe his eyes. Mickey threw his arms out wide, displaying the green monstrosity. 

It was...frankly, ridiculous. Big and green, with a white racing stripe down the side. Ian's eyes took in the exterior, from the small circular windows in the back complete with beaded curtains, to the tacky neon dice hanging from the rear view mirror. 

"Wait 'til you see inside." Mickey said, the booze making him giddy and eager. He always got excited showing off his van. It was the first thing he bought for himself after he graduated from college. 

Ian smiled at him, smitten with his unbridled enthusiasm.

Mickey smirked back. Let him smile. Once he's sees the interior, he won't be laughing anymore. 

Mickey unlocked the side doors and flung them open with a flourish. Ian peered inside and whistled, low and long. 

"Damn, Mickey." 

"Go on, get in." Mickey nudged him gently. Ian was just drunk enough to stumble, but caught himself on the open car door and stepped inside. He had to kneel, since the ceiling was so low, but once he crawled inside, his jaw dropped once again. 

The driver and passenger seats were both captain's chairs, able to rotate 360 degrees. So when you weren't driving, you could be facing the back. The dashboard was full of mint condition, original gauges and trim. Right behind the two front seats was a small table, with cup holders and little slots for electronics, along with a plethora of charging ports and plugs. The wall opposite the door was full of shelves and drawers, places to keep clothes and kitchen utensils. Below the shelves sat a small sink and an even smaller refrigerator. Ian smirked, unable to believe what he was seeing. 

Separating the front sitting area from the back was a small set of shelves, affixed to those shelves was a small TV, an Ipod dock, and a tablet, all locked into little compartments to keep them from being jostles around. 

There were two green bean bags sitting on the floor between the table and a pretty set of green glass bead curtains. Beyond the curtain, Ian could see a good size bed, laying on a raised platform, more drawers tucked in under the mattress. The bed itself was piled high with comfy looking blankets and fluffy pillows. 

It was cozy and clean. Homey. Ian grinned at the space and then looked over at Mickey. "Damn." 

"Yeah, I kinda like it." Mickey shrugged, feeling suddenly shy. He grabbed his Ipod, queuing up some of his more mellow metal before glancing back at Ian with a grin. "And no, before you ask, I don't live in it. I have an apartment like a regular person. But I do like to take it camping in the summer."

He loved his van, but not everyone was on board with a shaggin' wagon.

Not that Mickey did a lot of shaggin' in said wagon, but people are still judgmental assholes. 

Ian's glanced around the space in wonder. It wasn't what he expected from one of these old conversion vans. It was clean and well-maintained, all the tech updated. It looked more like a home than the hippie camper Ian was expecting when he first saw it. "It's so nice, Mick." 

"Get comfy. Grab a seat." Mickey goaded, crawling in behind Ian and slamming the door shut. Ian did as asked, plopping his ass in one of the bean bags. He could feel the spandex of his suit pulling at his legs, and for the first time in the evening, wished he'd brought a change of clothes. 

Mickey dropped down in the bean bag across from him, reaching over the small space to the mini fridge and grabbing two beers. He passed on to Ian with a questioning glance. Ian took it with a smile. Mickey took a sip of his beer before placing it on the low table so he could remove his metal arm. It was a complex process involving a fair amount of straps and buckles. He caught Ian's eye as he pulled it off, smirking at him. 

"Like it?" Mickey asks, laying the fake prosthesis down on the floor of the van. 

"Yeah, it's incredible." Ian replied. He'd been eyeing the piece all night, and it was still just as intriguing. "How'd you make it?" 

"I can show you the video on youtube. The instructions were surprisingly easy to follow." 

"Yeah?" Ian grinned, the idea of spending more time with Mickey making him giddy. "I'd like that." 

"It's a date." Mickey replied, unthinking. 

"Is it now?" Ian smirked, reaching over to fiddle with the fingers on the metal arm.

Mickey shook his head, smiling, but avoided the question. 

"So," Mickey said, opening one of the lower cabinets and removing a small metal box. "I don't know you all that well, but I'm guessing if you grew up south side, you're not a narc." 

"Um, no." Ian replied, sipping his beer to hide his surprise at the question. 

"Sweet, well, I'm gonna smoke then. You don't have to. No, like peer pressure or whatever the fuck." He pulled out a small mason jar of frankly ridiculous looking weed. Big buds with little orange hairs and tiny crystals all over it. 

"Oh," Ian replied. "No, I'd...I'd like that. Work functions stress me out." 

Mickey laughed, nodding. "That's what I'm saying. Less than two hours in there and I wanna cave someone's head in. I need to mellow the fuck out before I catch a case." 

Ian laughed, tossing his shield onto the carpet and getting comfortable in his bean bag chair (surprisingly supportive for a sack full of tiny foam balls.) 

Mickey slid out of his leather harness, dumping all his fake weaponry into a small pile by the bed before settling himself indian-style in front of the low coffee table. He made quick work of rolling a joint, lighting it and taking a hit before passing it to Ian. 

His brother Iggy got him this weed, it was not to be trifled with. 

Mickey pulled his stupid wig off so he could get a better look at Ian as he took his hit. God, but he was gorgeous. The way his cheeks hollowed, the muscles in his neck flexing as he tipped his head back and released an impressive cloud of smoke toward the low ceiling of the van. 

"So, we knew each other as kids, then?" Mickey asked, taking the joint back and taking another hit of his own. Held the smoke in his lungs, letting his eyes slip shut as that peaceful calm settled over him, obliterating the last of his anxiety. 

"Yeah, I guess we did." Ian replied, reaching out for the joint. His fingers brushed with Mickey's, sending a little jolt of electricity shooting down his arm. He glanced at Mickey surreptitiously. He was much prettier without the wig, his dark hair tousled, sticking up everywhere. Adorable. "I mean, we clearly didn't know each other-know each other, but your last name was kinda famous back then." 

"You mean infamous." Mickey replied, smiling sadly. "I can tell you, totally honestly, I don't miss it." Mickey considered for a moment, what his life would have been like if he'd never been adopted. "My adoptive parents changed my life. I can't even begin to think of what it would have been like to grow up with Terry after my mom died." 

"He was a scary dude." Ian agreed. "The whole neighborhood breathed a sigh of relief when he got locked up for good." 

"Imagine how us kids felt." 

Ian nodded, smiling slightly. "Not to mention your incredible luck, getting adopted by two men. I mean, after Terry, that must have been refreshing." Terry's hatred of gay people, along with anything else he considered 'other' was well known throughout the south side. Before starting his life sentence in state prison, he terrorized anyone that didn't fit his neo-nazi ideal of what a real person was. No one was safe. Gays, Jews, anyone that wasn't white, women, disabled people. Terry fucked with them all. 

Ian can't imagine what growing up with a man like that would do to a child. 

Ian hates to say it, but Mickey got lucky. 

"Were you happy?" Ian asks, then immediately regrets it. He grimaces. God, this weed is strong. Making him stupid. 

"What? When my mom died?" Mickey asks, sad smile on his face. "Not really." Mickey's not sure how much he wants to share with Ian. They don't really know each other that well. 

On the other hand, this is the oldest of old news, doesn't affect him the same way it did when he was a kid. 

So fuck it. 

"When me and Mandy first got put in foster care, I was fucking pissed. I was mean, violent, rude. You name it. Poster boy for a damaged kid. And when Mark and Embry, those are my dads, when they fostered us, I was a real shit to them. Broke their widows, set their garage on fire. I punched a hole in a wall in every single room of the house. I hit them, spit on them. Looking back now, I was clearly trying to break them. Prove to them, and myself, that I wasn't worth the time or energy." 

"Or their love..." Ian replied, unsure if it was his place to say. 

But Mickey just gave him that same sad smile, nodding. "Exactly. You and my shrink would get on swimmingly." 

Ian nodded back, taking one last hit of the joint before passing it to Mickey to snuff out. He was more than stoned enough."I mean, we all have issues, man. You have no idea how messed up I am." if that wasn't the understatement of the century.  


But, no matter how nice it was for Mickey to be sharing all this with him, Ian wasn't quite so keen on airing all the skeletons in his own closet just yet. 

Time to change topics. 

"So, Maria got you into this shit too?" Ian asks, gesturing to his Captain America costume, then to Mickey's decidedly sexier Winter Soldier. 

"Yeah, man." Mickey was blushing. Actually blushing. It had to be the cutest thing Ian's ever seen. 

"We became friends about a year ago. She kinda just walked up to me one day and told me I'm too grumpy to be a Physical Therapist. Said I had to work on my bedside manor, and she'd be happy to help." 

"Sounds like Maria." Ian chuckled. 

"I know, right? She's so damn pushy, I agreed to hang out just to shut her up. Thought she was trying to get into my pants at first, but when I told her I don't swing that way, she laughed in my face, told me to get over myself."

Ian giggled. "That also sounds like Maria." 

"I had no idea how to make friends." Mickey said, shaking his head. "Never had any, not even after I got adopted. I spent so long hating everyone, then so much time after just trying to figure out who I was, never had time for anything else. Maria's the first person who ever showed an interest as me, as like, a person. Y'know?" 

Ian nodded, feeling oddly emotional. Here was Mickey, opening up to him so easily, and Ian still felt like he had a steel trap around his mouth. He just couldn't talk about himself. Not now. Not yet. 

"Anyway, I was certain it was a waste of time, cuz what could the two of us have in common? You've seen her." 

Ian nodded. Maria and Mickey were an odd couple if he'd ever seen one. Her in her flowery dresses, and Mickey in his all black scrubs. 

"Well, that makes us both judgmental assholes, cuz she's one of the coolest people I've ever met." Mickey laughed, the buzz of the weed and booze making him giggly. "We like the same music, the same TV shows, the same movies. When she showed me Marvel, I was surprisingly intrigued. I never was one for comic books growing up. No time to read when you're committing misdemeanors and training with handheld weapons." Mickey chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. "But this shit..." Mickey pointed to a Captain America poster he had taped to the roof of the van. "It's like the ultimate escape." 

"I get that." Ian replied, latching onto the change in topic. Here was something he could talk about without getting too personal. "When Maria first showed me, I thought it was the dumbest shit ever." 

Mickey growled, eyebrows pinched on his forehead. Ian laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

"That's what I said at first!" Ian insisted, still laughing. "But, honestly, two movies in and I was hooked. It's not just about the action or the robots for me."

"It's not." Mickey agreed. He stretched across the carpeted floor, unwilling to relinquish his seat as he dug in his mini fridge for two more beers. "Honestly, I hate to say this, cuz it's probably the gayest thing I'll ever admit out loud, but it's about the relationships between the characters." 

"You're right, though." Ian nodded, smiling as he accepted his new drink from Mickey. "That's what drew me in. Especially..." he motioned between himself and Mickey, at the remnants of the costumes they were still wearing. 

"Yeah, Cap and Bucky are the thing that keep me coming back for more." Mickey admitted reluctantly. He's the worst kind of fanboy, and it's a little more than a bit embarrassing to admit that to his sexy smoking partner. 

"It's not something I ever saw myself getting caught up in." Ian admitted sheepishly. "When Maria first got me into it, it seemed like something..." 

"For horny girls and lonely nerds?" Mickey supplied with a smirk. 

"Kinda, yeah." 

"Well, the fun thing about fandoms is, you can make it about whatever you want. For me, I love the movies, and the comics, but when it comes down to it, it's about the people. Like Cap and Bucky, right? In the movies, they're two guys, best friends, torn apart by a cruel world, only to meet again later as enemies. But their bond is so strong, against all odds, they come back together and fight the world side by side." 

"And if you read into fan theories, they fuck a lot too." Ian chuckled. 

Mickey scowled at him, but couldn't hold the face. He broke out into raucous laughter. "Don't tell me you watched a single one of those movies, and didn't feel gay vibes for days between those two. You gotta read between the lines to see it, but Cap and Bucky are endgame. They found each other after decades of faked deaths, government assassination attempts, torture, Nazis, and brainwashing. They'd die for each other. Hell, they kill for each other. If that's not romance, I don't know what is." 

Ian laughed, scooting his bean bag closer to Mickey's. Their knees knocked together, and Mickey glanced up at Ian through his lashes. "You make a good Cap, by the way." 

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" 

"Oh, you know, the usual. You're a nurse, so you clearly have some kind of hero complex. From what Maria tells me, you spend your free time helping patients you couldn't get to on the clock." 

"I don't know about that." Ian hedged, blushing. 

"Oh, so you didn't spend two hours on the phone after your shift on Wednesday trying to find a detox bed for a junkie on the psych ward?" Mickey asks, knowing full well it was true.

Ian groaned, smiling. He should have known Maria would tell everyone about that. "That patient needed my help." 

"See, hero complex. I bet you had army dreams growing up too." Mickey teased, grinning. 

Ian's smile slipped off his face, and Mickey knew he'd fucked up somehow. "What?" 

Ian shook his head, forcing a smile back onto his lips. "Nothing, you just got me pegged is all. I did want to be in the army, but...uh, life happened, y'know?" 

Mickey's not a psychiatrist, but his job requires him to read people. And he can clearly see pain and regret in Ian's eyes as he speaks, clear as day even under the haze of liquor and weed. So he just smiles, nodding. 

"Oh, I get that, trust me." 

"So, why Bucky?" Ian asks, steering the conversation away form himself once more, and back to neutral fandom territory. Mickey glanced over at him, smirking, and Ian's blush is back with a vengeance. 

"Well, probably for the same reasons you like Cap so much." Mickey sighed, really thinking about why the character of the Winter Soldier speaks to him on such a personal level. "Bucky was put through hell. Tortured, made to do things he never wanted to. Things he's ashamed of. Things that still keep him up at night, that he'll never forget or forgive himself for. But, he broke free of all that. He escaped, and took all that pain and anger and used it for something good. He, I don't know, took the broken pieces of his life and built something better with it." 

Ian nodded, giving Mickey a gentle smile. It's not really a mystery why Mickey feels such a kinship with the Winter Soldier. After the life he's lived, the obstacles he's overcome, it makes perfect sense. 

"Anyway." Mickey sighed, taking a sip of his beer. This conversation is way too heavy for this moment. "I relate to the characters, and their story just never gets old for me." he leaned over, getting into Ian's space. "What about you?" 

Ian hummed, leaning in himself. "I like the characterization, like you said. The action is a big plus, but honestly? Maria got me hooked on the, what's it called, smut? I feel like the biggest pervert saying that." 

And now the blush was burning a hot trail down his neck. 

"Ah, so our dear little Maria has introduced you to the wild world of fan fiction." Mickey laughed, shaking his head. 

This night just kept getting better and better. 

"Well, yeah, but I'm such a novice, it's almost embarrassing. I had no idea how involved it was, it's like a whole other language." 

"Well, I mean, if you're honestly interested, I could help you out." Mickey offers, eager to share this part of his life with someone who actually gives a shit. His dads humor him, and Mandy just rags on him. His work friends love a good smut story just as much as the next red-blooded American pervert, but Maria is really the only other person who really gets it. He'd like to add Ian to that list.

"Yeah?" Ian looks so hopeful. His bloodshot eyes warm and excited. "Cuz I have to be honest, Maria lost me at PWP...HEA...Fluff, Crack, Angst. What the hell does all that even mean?"

Mickey giggled, nodding. The jargon is ridiculous. "Just wait 'til you graduate to Hydra Trash Party or Dead Dove, Do Not Eat." 

"I'm just gonna stop you there." Ian laughed. Mickey grinned, inching ever closer unconsciously. Ian was just so pretty, with his ghost pale skin and gorgeous red hair. Mickey is aching to touch him. 

"We'll start you out slow, don't worry." Mickey whispered, his gaze flitting between Ian's bright green eyes and his plush pink lips. 

"Yeah? I'd like that." Ian whispered back, finally closing the distance. Mickey's lips were soft and warm, yielding to Ian's tongue easily. Ian sucked in a sharp breath, surging forward. He toppled out of his bean bag and onto Mickey's, clumsily landing on the other man with a needy groan. 

Mickey fell backwards with a huff of laughter against Ian's lips. He threaded his fingers through that red hair, gripping it tightly as Ian's tongue dipped into his mouth. Ian kissed with his whole body, arms wrapping around Mickey's back as he surged over him. Their chests touched through their costumes and sparks shot down Mickey's spine. 

God, when was the last time making out felt this good? He feels like a teenager, touching another boy for the first time. He wraps his legs around Ian's waist and lurches to the side, flipping them over easily. 

Ian landed on his back on the floor of the van, gazing up at Mickey with lust blown pupils. "Mick?" 

Mickey just licked his lips, sitting up on Ian's hips. He ran his hands teasingly down Ian's chest. "How many buckles and zippers is it gonna take to get you outta this thing?" 

Ian huffed a laugh, his body breaking out in a wave of delicious shivers. But he wasn't quaking from embarrassment this time, it was all arousal. He sat up, almost dislodging Mickey as the both started the arduous task of getting out of their costumes. 

Harnesses went flying first, then the utility belts, fake weapons, and then they were tearing at their skin tight shirts, desperate but still mindful. 

They'd be in a world of hurt if they fucked up Maria's costumes.

Once they were both shirtless, with their pants undone, they just sat there, staring at each other. Mickey's chest was heaving as he openly gaped at Ian's bare torso. 

"Jesus christ." he whispered, his fingers coming up to brush against Ian's prominent pectoral muscles. He dragged his thumb over a nipple, grinning devilishly when Ian keened, arching into the touch. "You're fucking gorgeous." 

Ian smiled, bashful for some reason. He reached up, gripping Mickey by the hips and dragging him back onto his lap. Mickey splayed his body over Ian's, wedging one of his thighs between Ian's spread legs. Ian's hands immediately went to Mickey's ass, gripping the muscle tightly as he ground their erections together. 

"Damn, your ass is phenomenal." Ian groaned, rolling his hips up against Mickey's. He can feel his erection poking out of the top of his spandex pants and god, he just wants Mickey to touch him. 

"Play your cards right, and you can get intimately acquainted with my ass at a later date." Mickey murmured, bending down to bring their mouths together again. Ian tasted so good. Underneath the hops and the Halloween candy, there was something unique, intoxicating. 

Mickey wanted more. 

Ian groaned, ripping his mouth away to breath. His breath only stuttered, however, when Mickey latched onto his neck, biting and sucking at the tendons in his throat. 

"Oh fuck." Ian groaned, his hips bucking up absently. Mickey can't just insinuate he bottoms like that and expect Ian not to explode on the spot. "Mickey, Mick." 

"It's all good." Mickey whispered against Ian's ear, running his tongue along the shell. "I gotcha." 

"Nah." Ian laughed, gripping Mickey's ass tightly and rolling them once more. Mickey landed on his back on the shag carpeting with a grunt, looking up at Ian with shock in his blown blue eyes. 

"Let me." Ian smiled, kissing Mickey harshly on the mouth before propping himself up on one arm. Mickey was panting, wriggling around on the carpet. Restless. 

Ian reached into his open pants, hissing as he gripped his rigid cock. Once his dick was free, he jammed his hand into Mickey's pants, pulling out his frankly gorgeous cock. Long and thick, blood swollen and shiny at the tip. It was a thing of beauty. Ian licked his lips, desperate to get that thing in his mouth. 

Another time. 

Mickey was staring up at Ian, slack-jawed. He knew he must look like an idiot, chest heaving with his dick out, but Ian looked like he wanted to eat him whole. 

It was fucking sexy. 

"Can I?" Ian asks, grinding their exposed erections together experimentally. They're both leaking at this point, and their cockheads slide over each other easily, making Mickey shiver. 

"I sure hope you didn't take it out just to look at it." Mickey snarked, trying to regain some kind of control of the moment. 

Ian just huffed a small laugh before dipping his head down for another kiss. While Mickey was distracted by the magic of Ian's tongue, his whole body jolted at the feeling of a huge warm hand wrapping around their cocks, pressing them together tightly.

"Oh god." Mickey groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

Ian was looming over him, kissing his fiercely as he jacked them off in his tight griip. He tucked his face into Mickey's neck, licking along the column of his throat as he fucked into his fist. 

Mickey's legs were shaking. He tipped his head back as far as it would go, silently begging Ian for more biting kisses. His hips rocked up into Ian's grasp, the friction tight and dry, but so fucking good. 

This was going to be over embarrassingly fast. 

Ian's dying. He's sure of it. Mickey underneath him is every dream he never knew he had coming to life. He's not Ian's usual type, but he's for sure ticking all Ian's boxes right now. His bare chest flushed with sweat as he writhes under Ian's ministrations. The way he fucks up into Ian's hand like he has no control. The way his eyes are pinched shut, like he just can't handle what Ian's doing to him. 

It's heady, and sexy as fuck. 

Ian drops down to his elbow, snaking his free hand under Mickey's ass as he rocks their bodies together. 

"Oh god. Yes, fuck." Mickey moans, rolling his hips up. Ian shoves his hand down the back of Mickey's pants, gripping his ass tight. God, that ass. His fingers dance dangerously close to Mickey's hole and the man reacts like he's been electrified. 

"Fuck!" Mickey yelps, bucking helplessly in Ian's arms. 

"You like that?" Ian laughs, licking a filthy stripe up Mickey's neck. He works his hands in tandem, jacking them off together as the fingers on his other hand tease Mickey's entrance. 

"Stupid fucking questions." Mickey grumbles, but it comes out too breathy to be taken seriously. 

"C'mon, Mick. Come. I'm so close." Ian groans, working his hand faster. He runs his fingers along the heads of the cocks, smearing precome down their shafts. The added slide intensifies the pleasure exponentially and Ian's can't hold out much longer. 

"Shit. Just like that." Mickey moans, his body going tight as Ian brings him off with just his hands.

Never has a handjob felt like this. 

"Fuck yeah." Ian grunts, thrusting harder. He works his hips until the pleasure crests over him, and he comes all over Mickey's bare chest with a muffled groan. 

Mickey watches with wide eyes as Ian stiffens and comes. The sight is so fucking hot it sets Mickey off like a bomb. His balls tighten and his body jerks as a wave of ecstasy so powerful rolls over him, he feels like he may pass out for a second. 

Once he comes back to himself, Ian falls to the side, landing next to Mickey on the shag carpeting. They just lay there for a moment, catching their breath. Neither one speaking, not even deigning to look at the other man. 

Mickey closes his eyes, a small nervous smile breaks out on his face, and the next thing he knows he's chuckling. He throws a hand over his face as he gasps for breath as he loses his shit laughing. 

It might be the weed, or it could be the sheer ridiculousness of this moment. 

Ian's laughing too. Mickey's not sure when he started, but now they are both in the throes of a serious giggle fit. Ian rolls onto his side, throwing his arms around Mickey's bare stomach, heedless of the mess.  


Once they've calmed down, neither man move. Mickey lays his hand over Ian's arm, keeping him close as they catch their breath. 

"So, that happened." Ian said, voice low. Unsure, nervous. 

"Yeah, it did." Mickey agreed. He finally pulls himself up onto one elbow so he can gaze down at Ian. He looks utterly debauched. Skin still pink, tiny beads of sweat dotting his bare chest and neck. He's got bruises all over his body in the shape of Mickey's mouth. His cock, semi-soft but still impressive, lays spent against his stomach, pants still undone and open. 

"I usually don't do this kinda thing." Ian says, tilting his head so he can look Mickey in the eye. He motioned between their bodies with an embarrassed expression. 

Mickey bristled, just a little, at the idea that Ian probably considered this a one-time booze induced mistake. 

"Not really my business what you do." Mickey replies, because it's true. What Ian does in his life, sexual or otherwise, has nothing to do with Mickey. Mickey tries his best to ignore the little pang in his chest at that revelation. 

"I'd like it to be your business." Ian says, voice quiet. His eyes flit around the interior of the van, like he can't quite look Mickey in the eye. 

Mickey's heart skipped at the words. Really now? 

Mickey reaches up, threading his fingers through Ian's hair and tipping his head down so they are eye to eye again. 

"Yeah?" Mickey asks, smirking. 

"Well, yeah." Ian nodded, shrugging a shoulder as he gave Mickey an impish grin. "I mean, Maria went through all this trouble to set us up." Ian's smile grew teasing as he continued "You're not so bad. And I really don't want to end up on Maria's bad side, so I think the only course of action is to take you out to dinner." 

"I see how it is." Mickey scowled playfully, eyebrows high on his forehead. "You're only offering to take me out to save your balls from Maria's ire." 

Ian laughed, nodding along. "I mean, I'm pretty attached to them." 

Mickey laughed along, lurching up to rummage through his glove box. He tossed a small pack of wet wipes over his shoulder. Ian caught it with surprising grace and went about cleaning up the mess on his chest. He passed the packet back to Mickey, who did the same. Once they were relatively clean, Mickey slapped Ian's knee and moved toward the bed in the back. He turned his back to Ian as he stripped out of the rest of his costume, speaking to Ian over his shoulder. "I'm not driving, and neither are you." he said. Once he was down to his boxer briefs he crawled onto the mattress, facing Ian on his knees. "I think Molly has a hotel room, if you wanna head up there. that's where Maria and Tyler are spending the night." 

"Oh, okay." Ian said, his face falling. He reached for his costume top, ready to pull it back over his head. He'd clearly outstayed his welcome. Dread pooled in Ian's gut as he used his shirt to hide his stricken face.

Mickey can feel the shift in Ian's mood all the way at the other end of the van. That really won't do. 

"Or, you could get your ginger ass up here in this bed and we can go to sleep." Mickey offered, pulling the comforter back and patting the mattress. 

Ian's face broke out into a wide smile. "You want me to stay with you?" 

"No, I just want you to cuddle me until I pass out, then get lost." Mickey replied, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I want you to stay. Unless you're too classy to sleep in a conversion van outside a hotel..." 

No, not classy at all." Ian laughed, quickly stripping out of the rest of his costume and crawling in bed next to Mickey. Mickey pulled Ian close, curling up against his chest. It should probably feel awkward, since they pretty much just met, but it didn't. Could be the fact that they're both kinda buzzed, but it honestly just feels natural. Like they've known each other forever. 

Mickey flicked off the overhead light, and darkness descended on them. Ian hummed happily, wrapping his arm around Mickey's back as he leaned down for a slow, sweet kiss. 

As they started to drift off, a thought occurred to Ian. "So, you really wanna show me your favorite parts of the fandom?" 

"Yeah." Mickey replied sleepily, nuzzling into Ian's bare chest. "I'll even show you my writing."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah, my handle's 'BuckyBackFromtheDead.'" Mickey yawned, wrapping both arms around Ian's torso. 

"Wait!" Ian sat up quickly, sending Mickey flying sideways. Mickey rolled onto his back, blinking up at Ian, confused. 

"What?"

"You're 'BuckyBackFromtheDead???" Ian gasped, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yeah." Mickey rubbed at his eye before sitting up slowly. "That's me." 

"Mick, you're like, my favorite author on AO3. 'Repressed Memories' was a fucking masterpiece. That reunion sex had me hard a rock, and crying like a baby. Impressive shit, man. For real." 

Mickey grinned, his whole face heating up. It's not the first time someone has complimented his writing, but it feels different coming from Ian. Better somehow. 

"Thanks man." Mickey replied with a shy smile. He flopped back down on his back, pulling Ian down with him. "Maybe tomorrow I can tell you about a story I'm planning. It's pretty wild." 

"I'd like that." Ian said, laying a tender kiss to the base of Mickey's neck as he closed his eyes. 

Mickey's last thought before sleep took him was the fact that he owed Maria one hell of an apology...

***

October, 2020

"I can't believe we did this." Ian laughed, snapping another photo with his phone as they wandered through the display area. 

"What? Made a trip to New York for Comic Con, or skipped the company Halloween party to do it?" Mickey asks, scanning the bins in front of him for a certain rare comic book he'd been looking for. 

"Either?" Ian laughed, snapping another picture of a huge framed poster from the original Avengers movie. Three thousand dollars. More like a twenty dollar poster with twenty eight hundred dollars worth of celebrity signatures on it. 

Not that he doesn't think RDJ's signature isn't worth something. But he's still just a nurse. 

Maybe next year. 

"I think it was totally worth it." Maria chimed in, sipping loudly from her watermelon Slurpee. "Fuck the Hyatt and fuck work. We're seeing a Marvel Cinematic Universe panel in less than an hour. There is no place on Earth I'd rather be."

"Fucking right." Mickey laughed, reaching out to lace his fingers together with his boyfriend's. Ian easily linked their hands, surging forward to plant a quick kiss on Mickey's smiling lips. 

So much had changed in the past year. Mickey has a hard time reconciling it sometimes. The person he was just twelve months ago seems like a stranger. Not that he was unhappy, because he wasn't. 

It's just that he's so much fucking happier now. 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out why either. 

Since the chaotic madness that had been last year's company Halloween party, Mickey and Ian have been, for all intents and purposes, attached at the hip. They woke up on the morning of November 1st, nursing impressive hangovers. They were wrapped tightly around each other, and despite the mild embarrassment of their drunken hook up, they haven't let go ever since. 

They'd went out for breakfast that morning, with Maria and the rest of their work friends. That weekend, a Marvel movie marathon at Mickey's apartment, with just Mickey, Ian and Maria. The following week, the boys had their first real date, just the two of them. Then, they made it official, became boyfriends. 

It was the easiest, more comfortable, happiest relationship Mickey had ever been in. The had so much fun together, challenged each other, grew together. Like actual grown adults. 

It was crazy. 

Mickey can remember when they first got serious, about nine months ago. When Ian sat him down and told him he had a secret that would make Mickey want to leave him. Mickey's brain had gone offline, straight to worse case scenario. Like, was Ian in a gang? Selling human organs on the dark web? Was he married? What was so bad that Mickey would walk away for good? 

Imagine Mickey's surprise when Ian told him he was bipolar. Mickey will never tell Ian this, but he'd been so relieved. A mental illness. A manageable one. It says more about Ian's self worth than it does about Mickey's deal breakers that Ian would even entertain the idea that his disorder would end their relationship. 

It was laughable. 

Mickey didn't laugh, of course. He'd pulled Ian close, kissed him so, so gently, and told him there was nothing wrong with him, and of course Mickey wasn't going anywhere. Mickey had also taken the opportunity to share his own issues with Ian. His PTSD, the depression and anxiety. He still has nightmare a few times a week, just from the shit he saw as a kid. 

So no, Ian wasn't alone in his insecurities over his brain. Mickey still feels broken a lot of the time. But, as a grown ass adult, he talked to Ian about all of it. And it return, Ian finally opened up too. In the end, Ian had nothing to worry about. If anything, it brought them closer together. 

Who knew honest, open communication could be good for people? 

And the sex! Jesus fuck, the sex. Mickey had always thought he was a good lover. He left his partners satisfied, never got any complaints. 

But with Ian, it was like he'd leveled up somehow. Found his perfect partner. Ian never left him hanging, never questioned Mickey's kinks or odder fantasies. Ian was always willing to go there with Mickey, more often than not resulting in mind-melting orgasms all around. 

They were never bored together, always content. Whether they were out seeing a concert or holed up in Mickey's apartment watching Marvel movies, they always had a blast together. 

The past year had been the best year of Mickey's life. And he's not stupid enough to take the credit for it all. 

Ian is just....well, he's everything to Mickey. 

"C'mon guys!" Maria whines, stomping her booted foot. She looked ridiculous, of course, getting all pouty in her full Black Widow get up. Natash Rominov never threw a hissy fit like that. "We're gonna miss the panel." 

Mickey grabbed Ian's wrist, pushing up the sleeve of his Captain America costume to get a look at Ian's watch. Half an hour to go until the symposium started. "Yeah, Ian, we better go." 

They made their way through the throngs of people stuffing the halls of New York Comic Con. The place was fucking packed. Hundreds of people, some decked out in full cosplay fare like Mickey and his little crew, some just in fandom t shirts, some dressed like they're on their way to the club. Ian kept a tight grip on Mickey's hand, unwilling to lose him to the mass of nerds moving as a single unit. Maria had a tight grip on Mickey's tactical vest as they inched their way toward the theater for the symposium. 

Mickey doesn't like crowds, never has. He makes an exception for Comic Con, for obvious reasons. When they finally make it to the auditorium, he falls into his seat with a disgruntled huff. 

Mickey anxiously picks at his tac pants as he glanced around the packed theater. "I hope you know you both owe me Halloween themed drinks after this fucking mess. Look at all these people." 

Ian chuckled, reaching over to lace their fingers together again. Mickey's shoulders fell immediately, but like hell he was going to bring attention to the fact that a single touch from his boyfriend was enough to calm him. 

Ian would never let him hear the end of it. 

"I know you hate people, Mick, but this is gonna be epic, trust me." Maria sang from her seat at his other side. "It's been years since all these actors have been under one roof. You're gonna die when you see 'em. Tony fucking Stark! Cap And Bucky, and look, they're sitting next to each other! Natash, Clint, even Wanda's here. I'm so excited." 

Mickey's not listening. He's not trying to be rude, but he's got other shit on his mind. Not even Stucky could distract him right now. He's nervous as fuck. Unsure if he's even doing the right thing. It FEELS right, but that means fuck all in the grand scheme of things. 

This could all blow up in his face. 

The panel starts and Mickey does manage to get distracted. The actors on stage are engaging and funny, talking about their past Marvel movies and the opportunities for the future. Chris and Sebastian look hot as fuck, and Mickey files those images away for later use in his solo-action spank bank. 

He and Ian don't really role play, their sex life is adventurous enough without having to pretend to be anyone else. 

The closer they get to the end of the panel, the more Mickey's nerves come back. He's running out of time. 

Fuck it. He's come this far. No turning back now. 

After the panel concludes, some of the stars stay behind to sign autographs. Maria drags Ian and Mickey to the line, even though both boys are protesting. 

"C'mon!" Maria whines. "When will we ever get this chance again?" 

Mickey rolls his eyes, but he can see his boyfriend smiling that nervous, hopeful smile. The same smile he was sporting the night they met, almost a year ago to the day. That smile that says 'I want to, but I'm scared.' 

And that just won't do. 

"Fuck it. Let's go." Mickey grabs Ian's hand and drags him after Maria and into the line. They stand there, Captain America, The Winter Soldier and Black Widow, each holding a cast photo to be signed. 

All three of them are varying degrees of giddy as they get their photos signed by Robert Downey Jr., Scarlet Johanson, Jeremy Renner...even Chris Hemsworth is there. 

Mickey is feeling flushed and ridiculously nervous by the time they get to Chris Evens and Sebastian Stan. Maria had gotten quite high praise from Scarlet on her Black Widow costume, and now that it was their turn to meet their cosplay inspiration, Mickey was scared his costume skills wouldn't be up to snuff. 

It's unnerving, meeting your heroes. 

Or....your imaginary heroes, at least. 

Swallowing down his nerves, Mickey gripped Ian's hand tightly and dragged him over to Chris and Sebastian's end of the table. 

"Holy shit, look at this." Was the first thing Sebastian said when he laid eyes on Ian and Mickey.

"No kidding." Chris agreed, leaning forward against the table. "I think they put our costume department to shame, right Seb?" 

Mickey was full on blushing now. Like a teenage girl meeting her favorite boy band. "Thanks." he replied, voice cracking. 

How fucking embarrassing is that? 

"He made 'em himself." Ian supplied, most unhelpfully. 

"I helped." Maria interjected, squeezing herself between Mickey and the table, tossing her photo in front of Chris. "I love you guys!" she swooned. "Stucky is life." 

Chris chuckled, quickly signing her photo before passing it to Sebastian. He held his hand out for Mickey's photo and Mickey handed it over, pleased to find he was only shaking minutely. 

"What about you guys?" Sebastian asks, taking Ian's photo to sign. "Is Stucky life for you?" he waggled his eyebrows with a smirk. 

"We're Stucky shippers for sure." Ian agreed happily. "It's what brought us together, actually." he brought Mickey hand to his mouth, laying a gentle kiss to the back of his metal hand.

"See, Chris, this is what I love about these movies." Sebastian chuckled, motioning to Ian and Mickey's clasped hands. "I can't say if Steve and Bucky were ever boyfriends or whatever, that's up to each viewer's interpretation. But I just love that all kinds of people can take our work and find something to make their own out of it." 

Mickey's heart was beating double time. This was so much more than he ever anticipated. Meeting these actors with his boyfriend and his best friend, and then hearing one of those actors say something so cool? 

It's more than Mickey could ever ask for. 

This is it. This is the moment he's been waiting for. 

The line behind them is getting restless, but Mickey wants to do this here and now, in front of the real Cap and Bucky. 

Ian is thanking the actors profusely, spouting off about how amazing they are on screen and embarrassingly enough, telling them about Mickey's smut filled fan fiction. Maria is tomato red, tugging on Ian's hand. 

"C'mon Ian, enough." she whispers, giving the actors an apologetic smile. 

Mickey grabs Ian's hand. The one not holding his autographed photo. "Hey Ian, these are for you." he murmurs. 

He can see Maria glancing over Ian's shoulder, the nosy bitch that she is. 

Ian looks down, confused. In Mickey's hand is a key chain. A small metal disc half Cap's shield, half the Winter Soldier's red star. 

It looks just like Mickey's key chain, but it's not. 

"What do I want with your keys?" Ian asks, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

"They're not my keys, dumbass." Mickey smiles at his boyfriend, all fond and stupid. "They're yours." 

"Move it along!" Someone in the back dressed like Batman yell. 

"Hey, give 'em a minute." Sebastian puts up a placating hand, shocking the fuck out of Mickey, as well as the rest of the line. Mickey glances up at Bucky fucking Barnes, and the man gives him a bright smile, motioning for Mickey to continue. 

"Uh, Ian....I love the you. Like a fuck ton. I wanna be around you all the time. So just move in with me already? Yeah?" he had it planned out better in his head, but that's what came out, and it's too late to turn back now. 

Maria sequels off to their right, spinning in a circle like she just won the lottery. 

"What?" Ian's voice is so small, his eyes wide with surprise. "You mean it?" 

"Of course I mean it." Mickey scoffed, laughing. "This would be the most unfunny joke ever." 

Ian's eyes were brimming with tears, and Mickey was suddenly certain he'd made a huge mistake. Maybe he'd read this all wrong. Was a year too soon? Probably. He's never done this before. 

"Ian?" Mickey asks, voice quiet. He took a single step forward, carding his fingers through Ian's tousled red hair. "If it's too soon, or you're just not into it, let me know. We can forget I ever asked." Mickey hopes they can forget it. If this is a deal breaker and Ian walks away, Mickey will be fucking crushed. 

"Forget it?" Ian balked, grabbing the key chain from Mickey's clenched fist. "No taking it back. I wanna live with you, Mick." Ian glanced down at his new keys and then up into his boyfriend's eyes. "I want everything with you." 

Mickey's face split into a grin so wide his face hurt. He wrapped his arms around Ian's waist and pulled their bodies flush together. Ian laughed, dipping his head down for the kiss he knew was coming. 

They came together like they always did, passionate and hungry. The crowded room fell away, and there was no one in the world but Ian and Mickey. Mickey dipped his tongue into Ian's mouth with a low whimper, clutching the back of his head to keep him in place. 

"Guys, there a kids around." Maria's voice broke the spell and they broke apart reluctantly. 

Mickey turned to walk away, grabbing Ian and moving to step away from the stage. "Thanks again." he said to Chris and Sebastian. "We own you guys a lot." 

"Looks like you did all the heavy lifting, buddy." Chris said with a little wave. Sebastian actually giggled, rolling his eyes.

Best. Day. Ever. 

As they made their way out of the convention center and toward a Manhattan bar to order a round of Zombies, a thought occurred to Mickey. 

He grabbed Ian around the waist, swinging him against a brick wall on their left. Maria groaned, always irritated when their PDA delayed her day drinking. 

"Mickey, what?" Maria sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"I'm just happy." he realized, grinning up at his boyfriend. Ian smiled back, warm and loving. "Can't wait to get back to the hotel room to show you how happy I am." Mickey trailed his hand down Ian's toned chest with a wicked grin. "And this shit just gave me the best fic idea." 

Ian huffed a laugh, planting a quick kiss on Mickey's lips before grabbing his hand and dragging him down the street toward the bar. 

"Mick, we talked about this." Ian sighed, still smiling. "I don't know how comfortable I am with you using our sex life as inspiration for your stories." 

Maria cackled, grinning. "C'mon, Ian, that's Mick's creative work, and it's hot as fuck." 

"That's exactly it, Mari." Ian chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know how to feel about you, and a million AO3 users getting all turned on over me and Mick's sex life." 

"Turns you on plenty." Mickey pointed out. 

"It's our sex!" Ian insisted. 

"It's art, Ian." Mickey laughed. "And sometimes, real life is stranger than fiction." Mickey licked his lips, shooting Ian a ridiculously over the top wink.

"Asshole." 

"Love you too." 

Mickey never thought his life could be this way. Loving family, amazing friends, a boyfriend he absolutely adores, and a passion in his life that brought him so much happiness. Fandoms aren't for everyone, but his fandom brought him Maria, and it brought him Ian, and that's more important that any celebrity sighting or signed comic book. 

And he's willing to give credit where credit's due. He did a lot of the work to better his life, but his fandom gave him a new way to interact with the world, and a whole second family. And Ian, who was pretty much everything to Mickey.

Mickey got fucking lucky, and he knows it. 

He knows his fandom shit's not real. He's not confused or obsessed, but he can appreciate it for what it is, a bridge between himself and the wider world, and a tool he can use to enrich his life. And god has it done that. 

Glancing over at his boyfriend, looking sexy as fuck and oh-so happy, his Captain America costume making him look larger than life, Mickey wonders what he ever did to deserve him. 

Besides falling face first into fandom madness.

Life is so fucked up sometimes. But for once in his life, Mickey wouldn't change a damn thing...

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just my utterly selfish attempt at marrying my two favorite fandoms. No shame, this was an exercise in self-indulgence, and I really don't care. It was so fun to write about being in a fandom from the perspective of an fan as hardcore as myself, and this story got me out of my head when I was in some pretty serious emotional turmoil. That's what writing is for: to bring us peace amidst the chaos of our lives. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, it means the world to me. 
> 
> PT: physical therapist


End file.
